


Till Morning

by hedgerowhag



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Library, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Humor, Comfort, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sleep Deprivation, and Ren's obsession with 18th century romances, featuring: Hux's terrible work ethic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-10 20:05:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7859335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgerowhag/pseuds/hedgerowhag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ren works graveyard shifts at a library and, somehow, he ends up taking care of a barely functioning insomniac. He is doing a pretty good job considering that the last time he tried to take care of something it was a succulent and it died three days after purchase.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nereidlilies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nereidlilies/gifts).



The elevator doors rattle open and a cart weighed down by masses of hefted books is pushed out onto the dimly lit library floor. Ren peeks out from between the doors and glances both ways down the corridor of bookcases. 

As always, at one in the morning, the library is entirely empty.

The elevator doors close as Ren steps out beside the book cart under the buzzing florescent yellow lights of the low ceiling. He takes out a bundled set of earphones from the pocket of his hoodie, unspools them and plugs the them into the audio jack of his phone before shoving it back inside the pocket.

With music on too loud, Ren turns the cart around and wheels it down the corridor that is created by a wall and a leaning mass of books. Turning the corner, Ren begins to scan the labels tacked onto the rowed bookcases for the right strings of digits and letters.

There is, in fact, a very good reason why Ren took the vacancy at the college main library (besides the money).

It’s open twenty-four hours a day and seven days a week, brimming with activity between the hours of ten in the morning and seven in the afternoon. Afterwards, people either scuttle off back to their dormitories or migrate to the computer labs, vacating the premises almost entirely. Just like that, the library becomes a haven of silence and undisturbed peace.

And yet, nobody wants to do the graveyard shifts because people tend to like to sleep at night and continue with their business in the morning instead of yawning themselves stupid at ass-o’clock in the library. For Ren, however, and several other selected few who he never sees, sleep doesn’t come easily and an empty library with only the buzzing lights for company sounds like the idea of paradise.

Ren spends the nights sorting the returned books nobody else had the time to or could be bothered doing during the day. Perhaps there will be some work to be done on the online archives, but the rest of his hours will be free and Ren will sit behind a reception desk reading whatever he had found while puttering about on the library floors.

Sometime near dawn, Ren will finally be off the clock and by the time he gets home he will be too exhausted to keep his eyes open. That’s the insomnia sorted then. Ren sleeps in till midday and by the time he is fully conscious it’s time for his shift at a student bar – as if he hasn’t already had enough of college students rubbing their superiority into his face.

Anyway, as far as Ren is aware, he is in an empty library, left to do mundane work in his own time, nobody is bothering him, nobody is getting in his way, no anger outbursts because of someone else. Everything is fine.

By the time Ren is done with the languages section and has made it into another elevator the book cart is half empty and it’s three in the morning. As he takes a short ride to the next floor, Ren wonders how long it will take him to get through this lot before he can go to the literature floor and spend the rest of his shift reading _‘Wuthering Heights’_.

Pushing past swinging doors, Ren enters another library floor. The ceilings are higher and down the centre of the room there is a study area along with three other designated zones that are spaced around the floor. The two lines of rowed bookcases that stretch the length of the floor flanking the central desk row range in topic from geography to astrophysics. Ren takes to the right one first.

On the right side of the shelves, there are more tables and behind them tall windows separated by thin panes stretch along length of the wall. Past the florescent glare, in the oily blackness of the night, the computer lab building is visible where the desk lamps flicker as students decide to finally turn in.

Shoving in place another leather bound tome, Ren leaves the narrow aisle between two bookcases and pushes the almost empty cart past another study area alcove. Guiding it around the corner of the of the last bookcase, Ren passes the tables at the centre and heads toward the other side of the room.

Humming along with the music that is making his ears ache, Ren sets to work once more, all while wondering about the implications of generational inheritance of sin in _‘Wuthering Heights’_. He is half way through formulating a hypothesis when he turns the corner with a handful of scientific journals and almost has an heart attack.

Grasping hold of a shelving unit, Ren steadies himself as he tries to calm his breathing. His is too young for this, for fucks sake.

Along the side of the wall, below of the blacked out windows there are computer clusters and arranged study tables. One of the tables rammed up against the wall is occupied by a small mountain of books behind which hides a disarrayed mop of ginger. With the faint clicks of a keyboard, a pasty face appears from behind the book barricade.

It takes the unaware student a moment to rip away his eyes from the glaring screen of his laptop before scanning the tops of his books and focusing on something hidden behind them. Paper rustles as his disappears out of view again.

At least (to his relief), the kid doesn’t seem to notice Ren - too preoccupied with arranging tattered piece of lined paper in order that blink in and out of sight. Ren instantly relaxes as he hefts up the pile of journals under his arm and sets back to work.

Ren sees the kid in the library pretty often (‘Kid’ is perhaps not the correct way to refer to him as Ren doesn’t actually have a clue how old his is; for all he knows, the ‘kid’ is older than him, though he doubts it). He is always half lost to the world in the endless printed page of books, leaving only at sunrise trailing paper behind as he navigates to the lobby blearily.

He is the only person Ren bumps into on his graveyard shifts besides the ghost faced introverted employees and sometimes he altogether forgets that the kid is there. They have never spoken.

Ren returns from the aisle of bookcases just in time to see the kid try to reach for a book in a distracted I’m-not-quite-aware-of-my-own-body way which implies sleep deprivation. The pile of tomes almost topples as the ginger pries out what he needs. Not noticing the thinly evaded disaster, the kid goes back to the screen of his laptop with fish like glazed eyes.

In the white light of the laptop the bruises under the redhead’s eyes are painfully obvious and would make anyone feel concerned about his health. On the floor there are several crammed notebooks atop of which rest paper cups stained with coffee. Two empty water bottles litter around the student’s feet, rattling as he shifts in his seat.

Frowning at this, Ren goes to one of the water dispensers and fills a plastic cup to the brim. Setting it onto the book cart, he takes out a pad of post-it notes and with a sharpie scribbles down “death by dehydration is very common among students. FACT” and tacks the slip onto the cup.

With that done, Ren quietly walks toward the kid.

Amazing. Even with just a metre of space between them, the barely functioning workaholic doesn’t notice the figure of the oversized library assistant standing right in front of him. With a stifled snort of laughter Ren sets down the cup of water just beside a gravity defying tower of books and silently backs away.

 

By the time Ren completed sorting the books and left to finish _‘Wuthering Heights’_ , the only remaining student on the premises pulls out his earphones and notices the cup of water standing beside his books.

He startles and glances around. Seeing nothing, he looks back at the cup and sees the note. Pulling it off the plastic, he squints and reads it. A smile appears on his sallow face. 

 

-o-

 

Witnessing the gradual decay of an unassuming student is in itself a depressing process. So to take some of the guilt of his shoulders and avoid ageing himself by about ten years from just looking at this one poor fuck, Ren makes sure to try and feed him now and again like a stray cat.

Ren doesn’t always see him; sometimes Ren is in a completely different wing of the library or because out of the five days that he works there he has two evening shifts, on the occasion by the time he is done, he doesn’t get to run into the ginger in question (who seems to persist to only work after other sane human beings have gone home).

But when Ren does see him hunched over a work desk on the “science” floor, he makes sure to perhaps try and budge over a bottle of water or a snack. After hustling the vending machines on the ground floor Ren once managed to sneak hot chocolate to the kid who looked barely conscious (not coffee; Ren isn’t planning on making his sleeping regime worse… If he has one).

Always been too preoccupied with work, the kid never notices him and per usual crawls out from the building at four a.m.

And so it has come to be that Ren has ended up taking care of a barely functioning insomniac. He is doing a pretty good job considering that the last time he tried to take care of something it was a succulent and it died three days after purchase.

 

-o-

 

One day, Ren sees the ginger kid trying his best to stay awake and fail spectacularly. He is beginning to look grey in the face and red rims his aching, bruised eyes. Even from behind the doors that leads from the staircase Ren can see how bloodshot are the whites of the kid’s eyes.

If Ren had any heart he would go over there and knock him out cold so that he would finally get a healthy eight hours of sleep. _If_ Ren was a better person, he would slip something into a cup of water and just sedate the poor fuck.

And yet, Ren is none of those things.

So instead, Ren walks through the doors and marches toward the ginger before coming to a halt not a foot in front of him. Looming over the work desk, Ren crosses his arms and waits.

Surprisingly, it doesn’t take too long. With splutters of distress, the kid rips out his earphones and almost knocks the chair and himself onto the floor. To the great shock of the world, the kid clamps a hand on the edge of the table just before he knocks his head on the desk behind him.

Considering how dead he looks, it’s a true feat of fear and gymnastics.

“Relax, I’m not Freddy Krueger,” says Ren, holding up his hands.

“Yeah,” the kid mutters, righting himself. “Could have fooled me.” He scrapes back his hair and looks up at Ren with his red and purple ringed eyes. The white shirt under the kid’s woollen sweater is haphazardly buttoned, one unoccupied button hole poking out at the top of the collar.

“So is this what kids now do instead of drugs,” Ren mutters as he asses the condition of the redhead.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

“So what do you want from me?” the kid says, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly – limbs refusing to cooperate. “I have things to do and you are wasting my time.”

“Well thank fuck for that.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” the redhead spits.

Ren sighs. He expected to be able to just scare away the kid and be done with it, but it turns out he has more backbone than Ren expected.

“Look,” Ren says eventually, “it’s three in the morning and I’m not willing to have someone to die on the premises because of exhaustion. So either you get out or I’m going to have to force you out.”

The kid gapes like a smacked fish. “You—” he stutters. “You can’t do that!”

“Says who?”

That shuts the ginger right up.

“Are you going to do what I told you to or am I going to have to make this physical?”

“I still have work to do.”

The kid looks so pathetic that Ren actually feels his heart bleed a little. If he was a better person, he would have just told him to get out or given him a hug. Again, Ren is none of those things.

“Fine, if in an hour I come back and you are still working, I’m dragging you out.” The moment Ren finishes the phrase the kid is typing furiously, blinking back sleep from his eyes.

 

“What the fuck are you still doing here?” Ren barks as he charges down the length of the room an hour and fifteen minutes later.

The kid yelps and throws himself back in his seat. In a moment of sudden clarity, he looks at his wristwatch and Ren watches as his eyes widen with realisation. The redhead fumbles to cover his watch - his sleep deprived brain apparently telling him that this will hide from Ren what in fact the time is (four in the morning).

“I could ask you the same thing,” the cocky shit says.

Ren startles at that and snorts in disbelief. “Believe it or not, it’s my job to be awake at this time of night. So I’m going to ask you again: what the fuck are you still doing here?”

The kid huffs and rubs his hands over his eyes. “What does it matter to you?” he says, blinking himself back into awareness as he reaches for the laptop.

However, before the kid can do anything, Ren reaches out and quickly snaps the laptop shut, holding his hand flat over it as the ginger stares at him – startled.

“You need to get up,” Ren says slowly, keeping his eyes locked on the kid, “and go home.”

This time, it’s the ginger who snorts, grinning sharply. “Are you cutting me off?”

Ren frowns at the phrasing. “Something like that… Now come on, you’re no use to yourself like this. Get up.”

The kid crosses his skinny arms over his chest, puffing himself up in heights where he sits. “Well, look here—” He squints at the name badge where Ren knows in a font vaguely resembling comic sans his name is written with scratch marks just under the ‘R’. “Ren, look, I—”

Ren slams his palms down on the desk. Some books topple off onto the floor. The kid shuts up, his eyes wide, shoulder tense.  

“You are going to get up,” Ren speaks with patience, “take your stuff and go home.” He pauses, watching as the ginger screws up his face with the urge to spit something back. “Or I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you out. Understood?”

 

When Ren comes back with jacket on and bag slung over his shoulders, the kid has only just finished getting rid of the books that were piled around him and has started packing his laptop and notepads. He is buttoning up his pea coat when he notices Ren and hastily throws his backpack over one shoulder.

“Alright, no need for this to get out of hand,” the kid says and hastily shuffles out of the room.

Ren takes the elevator to the ground floor with the kid. He is watching the ginger under the harsh white light amid the mirrored walls when the kid asks: “Are you the one who has been trying to feed me?”

Ren shrugs. “It’s part of the ‘Adopt a Student’ programme. Gotta look after the future of this country.”

It’s obvious that Hux thinks that Ren is fucked up in the head as he purses his lips and nods slowly.

“So…” Ren slumps against a mirror. “What’s your name?”

The kid glances up and looks back ahead, adjusting the strap of his bloated backpack. Ren thinks that he won’t answer, but just as the elevator halts and the doors open, the kid says “Hux” and walks out into the corridor.

“Huh,” Ren sighs and follows Hux out of the elevator.

They make it through the security check point in the lobby and walk toward the automatic doors. The moment they slide open the chilled morning air floods the building and Hux yanks up the collar of his coat as he steps outside, hands shoved deep inside the pockets. Ren follows him, pulling on his hood as he feels the chill nip at his skin.

The sky is pulled over by the clouds that have been painted a hazy off brown-orange by the streetlights. The clustered campus buildings are silent and the windows are black. Lamps illuminate the courtyard at the centre where pavement cuts trails through a neatly trimmed lawn.

Without the constant flood of students and professors, the place seems like a ghost town.

It’s when Hux is walking past the computer lab building toward the main road that he notices Ren is still following him.

Hux looks over his shoulder and asks, “What are you doing?"

“Making sure you get home, obviously,” Ren explains.

“Right.” Hux nods and looks away. “Obviously.”

“In case you want to make a one-eighty and run back to the library while I’m not looking.”

“Right.” Hux doesn’t sound convinced.

 

Instead of leading to the dormitory block not that far from the main campus, Hux goes to an offsite apartment complex. It’s a white building with three floors shaped like a U wrapped around a garden island with a small fountain and a willow tree overhanging it.

Ren waits beside the parked cars as Hux goes through the doors of a lobby. Once inside, Hux turns around a makes a sweeping gesture to Ren to show that he has made it safely.

Ren throws back two thumbs up and walks away.

 

-o-

 

Much to Ren’s amusement and Hux’s displeasure, they end up making a habit of this.

On some days Ren’s shift at the library finishes at around eleven at night and after getting ready to leave he goes up to the floor which is usually occupied by Hux. If he is there, after thoroughly bullying him into turning in for the night, Ren walks Hux back to his apartment.

On the days that he has a graveyard shift, Ren simply follows Hux to the doors of the library lobby and waits until he is out of sight.

It becomes a routine and upon realising that he will not get rid of Ren easily, Hux even gives into making conversation.

“You’re kidding me! No. You can’t be more than sixteen years old.”

“I can confirm that you are off by eight years.”

“Wait— Shit. That means you are like a year older than me. Fuck.”

Ren also discoveres that Hux is doing a masters degree in mathematics and theoretical physics and is trying make the best of his hard earned scholarship. Hence the suicidal studying. This comes hand in hand with the confirmation that Hux can’t stand Ren’s sense of humour and that absolutely does not find Ren’s self-proclaimed title of ‘The Family Fuck Up’ funny.

At least he was mildly impressed when hearing that Ren left home at the age of sixteen and managed to make a life for himself without the help of his parents.

“Your stubbornness is your only redeeming quality, I think.”

“I would say the same about you, if your stubbornness wasn’t trying to kill you.”

 

-o-

 

It’s eleven at night when Ren is waiting for Hux to pack up for the day.

For the past half an hour Hux has been struggling with jamming in several crumbling taped up textbooks into his backpack and after some very strategic repacking, Hux is still left with several tomes that he claims he needs to finish his work. However, it is very unlikely that all of the books can be dragged away by a person singlehandedly.

Arguing that it’s because he doesn’t want Hux to be tempted to stay in the library a little longer, Ren offers help him carry the books. Hux instantly agrees and shoves some of the textbooks onto Ren for good measure.

It’s frigid outside and a cold wind is rucking up the dead leaves that are scattered about the ground. The weather seems to be turning for the worst after being fairly mild and calm.

“—So I told him that he can’t stop me from being what I want. And the next day I ran away.”

“You wanted to be a mob boss.”

“Uh-huh,” Ren agrees, trying to pick up the pace to keep himself warm.

“But instead you work in a library,” Hux concludes.

“It’s pretty much the same thing.” Out of the corner of his eye, Ren can see Hux trying to fight back a smile.

“I bet,” Hux mutters and pulls up the edge of his scarf over his mouth.

They turn off the main road onto a street with stone garden walls and over spilling shrubs that grown under tall gnarled yews. The streetlights have become entangled and lost in the canopies of the old trees, flickering as the wind shifts the branches.

Instead of leaving Ren out in the driveway of the apartment complex, Hux lets him inside the building. The lights flick on each floor as they go up two flights of stairs. The air is only a breath less frigid and each step is like the clatter of boulders.

On the second floor Hux halts in front of the first door on the right. He fumbles with his cold numbed fingers to coordinate the key into the lock, struggling briefly to turn it.

After the firm click sounds, Hux turns around and holds his hands out for the books that have been firmly held against Ren’s chest – securing the only patch of warmth.

“Well, thank you,” Hux mutters, trying not to sway under the weight of the books.

“No problem,” Ren says with a smile. “Till next time?”

“Yeah, till next time.” Hux scrambles for the door handle. “Goodnight.”

“’Night,” Ren says and turns to leave. But he doesn’t even make it two steps down the staircase when he hears a grumbled curse behind him.

Ren turns around just in time to see Hux close the door and shove against it again. It only opens by perhaps three inches when a  _crack_ sounds and the swing of the hinges halts.

“Fucking—!” Hux spits and slams his shoulder against the door, almost dropping all of his books in the process.

“What’s wrong?” Ren asks as he rushes back up and stops Hux just in time before takes another hit at the door.

Before Hux make any sort of reply, a breathy moan streams in through the crack of the door that is held back from opening by a safety chain. A whimper follows as timber creaks and something thuds.

Ren stares wide eyed at the door as Hux steps back beside him, adjusting the books in his arms.

“I guess my roommate has a guest over.”

“Mhmm.” Ren winces when he hears a sound that resembles the headboard of a bed being slammed against a wall. There is a loud moan that tapers off into a squeak.

“Look, I am not saying that I am a perfect roommate either—” Hux starts but his words become quickly silenced by the rhythmic whines and whimpers.

Ren gently closes the door and glances over at Hux. “So are you just going to wait on them?”

“No, there isn’t any point,” sighs Hux. “By the sounds of it, they are only on round two. Which means five more and a snack break.”

“Does this…” Ren shifts uncomfortably. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Yes, kind of.”

“Must be… Terrible.”

Hux shrugs. “Not really. Most of the time I’m in the research facilities or in the library and by time I come back it’s all over. It’s only an issue now that you have destroyed our ‘routine’.”

“Oh.”

“But once I did crash after forcing myself to remain awake for five days and then woke up at one a.m. to the sound of someone being bodily slammed into a wall.”

“Oh god…” Ren clamps a palm over his mouth to stop himself from laughing.

“And in the morning,” Hux continues, “I had a very exhilarating debate with the ‘guest’ about virtual particles emitting information from beyond the event horizon of a black hole. She had some rather interesting theories.”

“Uh-huh.” Ren is struggling to hold back his cackles even as something crashes in the apartment.

“Look.” Hux turns to face Ren, his face scrunching up with thoughtfulness. “I am not going to sit under the door all night and wait for them to finish. I’ll probably go and…” his words waver off as he struggles with his thoughts. “I don’t know.”

Hearing the resignation in Hux’s voice, Ren budges him with his shoulder. “Want company?”

Hux looks up at him curiously. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Not really?”

“Fine.”

 

With the sound of rustling bed sheets and whimpers in the air, Hux cracks open the door again and shoves the books through the gap, dumping them into the hallway along with his backpack. When he is done, Hux climbs up from his knees, dusts off his trousers and locks the door again.

“Come on, let’s go,” Hux says to Ren and sets down the staircase at an easy pace.

They are just about to reach the ground floor when a heavy rush of sound crashes across the pavement outside.

Hux comes to stand at the bottom of the landing with Ren behind them. Silently, they watch puddles quickly grow on the ground around the cars.

“Well fuck.”

 

Turns out, the nearest place that is open at midnight and where they can get safely out of the rain is a bar. More of a restaurant crossed over with a bowling alley and a bar, actually.

The lights are low and hazy, the bowling pins clatter in the background as people mill around the tables. By the time Ren is on his third pina colada, Hux is still mulling over the same margarita – prodding at the salt on the rim as his cheek becomes smeared against his palm. He sits back up every time his back begins to slouch. It’s almost painful to watch.

Ren had been hoping to bully Hux into a round of bowling, but with how sad and miserable the sorry fuck looks, he decides against it; Ren is scared the miserable will rub off on him.

Under the table, Ren kicks Hux’s ankle, startling him into awareness.

“What?” Hux spreads his hands out in question.

Not taking a moment to detach himself from the rim of his half-finished pina colada, Ren nods toward the doors.

The rain has finally stopped, leaving the streets swept clean of the majority of the night crowds.

Hux’s mood seems to immediately improve as he steps out into the cool night air, huddling deeper into his coat and shivering briefly. At what almost could be considered a cheerful pace, he wanders off down the street.

Reminiscing the unsampled selection of daiquiris, Ren mournfully zips up his leather jacket, pulls on the hood, tightens the strings and sets off after Hux.

They wander about the city with no particular direction in mind, talking thoughtlessly as stores close around them and people flag down taxis to turn in for the night. Though the cold is biting their steps are slow and wandering.

Somehow they end up sitting on the damp steps of a fountain, looking down onto a road where traffic stops at the red lights. A group of drunk teenagers stumbles past, clinging onto each other as they giggle and their feet tangle.

Ren is midway through telling a compelling tale of heart break and misadventure from pre-school when he notices that Hux’s face is beginning to slide down from where it has been carefully balanced on his palms. His eyes are glassy and unfocussed, looking puffy around the edges.

Realizing that he is being watched, Hux straightens his back and narrows his eyes with determination to continue listening.

Smirking, Ren proceeds to recall how he once walked fourteen miles at a fair, painting his heroic quest in explicit detail. It doesn’t take long for a weight that is certainly Hux’s head to drop against Ren’s shoulder.

When he looks down, Ren sees Hux blinking furiously as he tries to keep his focus on the street in front of them, fighting the urge to finally let his eyes close.

“Wanna go back to my place?” Ren asks nonchalantly.

This instantly gets Hux’s attention. “What for?” he asks, sitting up.

“I don’t know about you, but sleeping on my couch sounds better than a park bench or listening to your roommate putting dents in a wall.”

 

Convenience stores and takeaway places are shoved into the nooks of the ground floor of an old red brick building with etched window frames and large rusted drain pipes. Misted by the raindrops, the neon signs tacked to the windows of the stores glimmer through the glass as Ren and Hux cross the road.

Squashed into the only free gap is a narrowed door of an undiscernible colour. To Hux’s dismay, Ren leads up to it and opens the door, showing Hux inside.

With a static crackle a light blinks on illuminating a musty stone staircase as the door shuts. At the top of the stairs, there is a single corridor with a grey-brown door on either side. Ren goes to the one on the left and starts to unlock it.

The hinges squeak and protest as the door handle is turned and pushed inwards. Briefly, there is only darkness as Ren goes in and whacks his palm against a wall.

A warm yellow light floods the open view of an apartment with rustic timber floor boards, support beams and white painted exposed brick walls. Patterned rugs have been thrown across the floor in front of a black leather couch and a glass coffee table. There is an armchair of a similar style to the couch, a bookcase and several cabinets arrange beside the tall, fogged up windows that line the wall facing the street.

“Oh,” Ren hears as he begins to pull off his rain soaked jacket and hoodie. Turning around, he sees Hux cautiously step through the doorway, eyeing the surroundings like a cat that is being poked out of its carrier.

“Is that the sound of you being impressed?” Ren asks.

“To be fair.” Hux closes the door behind himself. “As the apartment of a creep that stalks me to my home on near daily bases, I expected more of a shit smear.”

After Ren manages to coax Hux out of his own water logged coat, he continues to explore the apartment, seeming to be in disbelief that Ren can actually afford something like this – or even maintain it.

“Looks can be deceptive,” Ren says after watching Hux poke around the kitchen with suspicion.

“Well,” mutters Hux just as he opens the fridge and finds it completely empty except for a block of cheese, an open carton of milk and an egg, “not in your case.”

Finally admitting his exhaustion, Hux sets camp on the couch. He refuses a change of clothes and instead curls under a spare duvet in his sweatshirt and jeans, waving off Ren from pestering him further.

Calling “’night”, Ren goes into his bedroom, flops down on the mattress and rolls himself into the covers – feeling more exhausted that he usually is from two full shifts. Sleep finds him with ease; there is nothing on Ren's mind but the feeling of clean sheets on his skin and the knowledge that the chill of the autumn wind is outside, not inside his bedroom.

It’s never entirely dark in the apartment as the lights of the street fall through the thin curtains, leaving the rooms in a dim glow of a multitude of lights. The rain returns and patters against the windows as the fat drops roll down the glass, glowing like small jewels before joining together in streams that run down onto the street.

When Ren is deep in his unconscious mind, drifting in and out of dreams, a sudden sound startles him awake. The silence shutters back just as Ren wrenches himself up.

It takes him a moment to coordinate his mind back into awareness and crawl up to the edge of the bed to glance at the face of the digital alarm clock on the floor. It’s only twenty to three in the morning.

The bedroom door is open ajar, wide enough for Ren to lean from the mattress and look out into the living room. It’s mostly dark now as the night traffic ebbs away and the dark autumn hours set. Amidst the shadows, there is a single stream of white light that is emitting from between the folds of the duvet that has been curled into a nest-like construction on the couch.

There is just about enough light by which to see Hux’s tired face, looking even more sallow and worn out in the glow of his phone screen.

“Can’t sleep?” Ren asks form where he is stilled curled up under the covers.

Hux glances up from his phone and shrugs before returning his attention to the screen.

Dressed only in sweatpants and a t-shirt, Ren shivers against the chill as he gets up and rummages through the drawers built into the bedframe to find his laptop. Taking it under one arm, Ren walks out into the living room.

Standing in front of the couch where Hux is blearily scrolling through something, Ren says, “Move over.”

The light of the phone flicks off and they are left drenched in the darkness.

“What for?” Hux asks.

“So I can sit down and watch a movie.”

Even in the dark Ren can see Hux squint at him. “You can watch a movie in your bedroom.”

“Yeah but there isn’t a sleep deprived workaholic in there.”

Eventually, and not without grumbled protests, Hux sits up and shifts to one end of the couch, tucking his feet under himself. Ren plots down beside Hux and powers up his laptop.

When the movie comes on Hux seems to have little interest in it, occasionally flicking on his phone as if to check for notifications. But as the minutes tick by, he seems to slowly shuffle toward Ren, transfixed by the constant flashes of scenes and mindless strobes of gun fire.

Ren smiles when he feels Hux lean up against him, trying to make it seem like he is not aware of it.

Even with the newfound interest for the movie, Hux slowly begins to doze, prying open his eyes now and then to see chunks of the movie out of context: something to do with dinosaurs and machines guns, vikings in bikinis… and Nazis?

Both Ren and Hux are out cold before the movie even ends.

Hux is slouching down onto Ren’s shoulder, knees pulled up to his chest and huddled in the duvet. Ren is sprawled out with his feet on the coffee table and head tipped back against the couch, Hux’s breath warm and gentle against his neck.

It continues to rain until morning.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

It’s no more than seven in the morning when Ren is jabbed awake. He groans and turns over, almost toppling a weight of knees before it is caught and lifted away (wasn’t that his laptop?). Slumping down across the couch, Ren feels the softness of a duvet and presses his face against it, moaning slightly as he gets comfortable again.

“Ren!”

He opens his eyes and glances up.

Pale eyes stare down at him, rimmed with purple. Red lips frown.

“Yea’?”

“I have to leave.”

“Alright.” Ren nuzzles against the pillowed duvet again. “Cool. Whatever.”

He falls back asleep.

 

By the time Ren has finally managed to drag himself up from the couch it’s almost midday. There is no sign of Hux having been in the apartment except for the duvet that Ren had rolled himself into, a recently washed bowl and a raided box of cereal.

 

-o-

 

As Hux’s roommate becomes preoccupied with ‘guests’ more frequently over the course of the following week, Hux finds himself spending his nights at Ren’s apartment.

Sometimes Hux passes out on the couch instantly and sometimes Ren stays up with him, watching movies or playing mindless computer games until Hux is asleep (they have established that the only thing Hux can play is the t-rex chrome browser runner).

Hux is always gone before Ren wakes up, occasionally leaving a rifled cupboard or drawer in the fridge. Ren has actually started buying decent breakfast food for Hux when he is over (he refuses to admit that it’s because there is some goodness in his heart).

As the weather grows colder Ren becomes awfully familiar with a red scarf that seems to be Hux’s favourite. It’s incredibly thick and oddly fluffy, appearing as if it was knitted as a particularly awkward Christmas gift. Ren would stab in a word about it if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s about the most warm and cosy thing he had ever worn.

The circumstances that led Ren to discovering this was that after Hux had spent the night at his apartment he forgot the said scarf in the morning.

Ren didn’t think much of it, deciding that he will giving back when he sees Hux at the library again. He had just enough time to grab it before he went on his graveyard shift after working at the bar. Just as he was leaving for the campus grounds, the weather turned for the worst and with the cold sapping the last of Ren’s dignity he pulled the scarf from his bag and wrapped it around his neck.

He is still wearing it as he sits behind the reception desk, trying to finish the last of ‘Northanger Abbey’ before midnight. The wind occasionally blows and rattles the doors – reminding Ren that he will have to go outside sooner or later.

The sky is almost completely black and there is still no sign of Hux though he has been turning up before Ren’s shift – trying to cram in as much time studying before he is levered out.

Earlier on, after finishing a light load of work, Ren had gone up to check Hux at his usual work desk. Finding it empty, Ren returned to reception. An hour later, gnawed by a peculiar feeling at the pit of his stomach, he decided to do a brief lap of the library, from the conference rooms by the law section, the literature-history-science block, the languages department, to the small study building at the centre of the complex that looks like a terrarium.

Out of breath and red in the face, Ren returned to the reception with the conclusion that Hux is in fact, for once in a very long time, either late or not planning on turning up. Perhaps he has switched his attention to the computer simulations which he has been going on about for so long.

That night (or more accurately morning), Ren returned home huddled in the red scarf with a mental note to check the archives for essays on ‘Northanger Abbey’ and a nagging thought that maybe something is wrong with Hux.

Despite the fact that over the past several weeks they have become very closely acquainted for people that don’t call each other friends, they still haven’t gotten to the point of swapping numbers. Hence why Ren can’t just text Hux and ask him where the fuck he is.

The next morning, or early afternoon, powering on six hours of sleep, Ren started the long trudge to Hux’s apartment. Ren doesn’t know what he’ll do if Hux is not at home, but he can play at being an optimist for now.

The building is almost completely silent when Ren approaches. There is an occasional shift of the curtains and a lone student shuffles indoors with haphazardly packed groceries. Glancing around, Ren quickens his pace.

On the intercom panel of the third lobby Ren finds the number of Hux’s apartment and presses on the button.

“Um…” Suddenly his mind goes blank. “Uhh… It’s Ren, I—”

Before he can finish the thought, the door buzzes and he hears the lock release. After staring blankly at the intercom for a moment, Ren pushes the door open and goes inside.

At the top of the staircase on the second floor, feeling oddly nervous, Ren takes a moment to gather himself. Maybe he is just being irrational and clingy. Hux probably has just been busy and everything is okay— No. He needs to check. Just in case.

Breathing in deeply, he squares his shoulders and raps his knuckles on the door.

Yeah he is just being irrational. Ren turns away and takes a step down the staircase when the door opens behind him.

“Yes?” asks a voice that is distinctly not Hux.

Turning back around, Ren sees a woman standing in the doorway. She is wearing a white bathrobe that has been loosely tied. Her pale skin is speckled with droplets of water and her damp short hair neatly frames her face. An uncomfortable weight drops in Ren’s gut.

“You are Ren, right?” she asks.

“Sorry, I think I have the wrong place,” he mutters and continues down the stairs.

“Are you here to talk to Hux?”

That stops Ren again. “Yes?” He glances over his shoulder.

“He has a flu right now, so if you want to tell him something it will have to be through me.” The woman crosses her arms.

“And you are—?”

“Phasma. Hux’s roommate,” she clips sharply, cold blue eyes following Ren as he shifts from foot to foot. “So, what did you want?”

Ren swallows down the urge to make a face and instead reaches inside the bag that has been slung under his arm. When he pulls out the red scarf he sees Phasma’s eyes widen by a fraction as she realises what it is.

Returning to the landing, Ren offers the scarf to Phasma. “Hux forgot it the last time he stayed over.”

Phasma takes the scarf and Ren expects her to send him off and close the door. But instead, Phasma leans against the doorframe, cocks her hip and continues to watch him as if she is disassembling a machine. Ren tries his best not to stare when the bathrobe slips off a little revealing her collarbone and a silver of her chest.

“Is there anything else you wanted?” Phasma asks in a voice that is clearly dissuading Ren from asking for anything else.

“Uh… No?”

“Off you go then.” Phasma nods toward the staircase.

Ren turns on his heels and quickly descends. When he turns the corner of the landing between two floors, he sees Phasma standing in the open door, her eyes raking over Ren with unconcealed interest.

Ren makes sure to leave the building as quickly as possible.

 

-o-

 

Two days pass with several figurative fights with vending machines, a couple of conversations with elderly ladies with one-sided flirting and in-depth reading of four chapters from _‘Emma’_. By Ren’s account, it has been uneventful.

Ren is on the last shift for his work week as he brings in the stock of high in demand textbooks that have been ordered in just before the students will be taking them out for the first semester exams. The last of the library occupants are beginning to trickle out as he is clearing the shelf space. Ren is anticipating those hours between one and four in the morning when he can sit behind the reception desk and finish his reading (before he can move onto the essays).

Dazed by the prospects of quiet peace before his weekend, Ren doesn’t notice a single figure slumped over a desk on the other side of the room. So when he moves across, mindlessly scanning through the codes on the spines of the books, Ren almost pisses himself when he hears a very loud cough ricochet through the room.

Another two coughs follow as Ren works over the sharp lumps in his throat. He is just in the right position to step out of the aisle of bookcases to glance across the room and past the second row of shelving units to see a small battlement of books built around the surface of a work desk.

Setting down the textbooks on a table in the central study area, Ren slips through the aisle of the opposing row of shelves and peeks out from the narrow passage to see Hux sat behind his laptop several desks away. He looks paler than Ren has last seen him and his eyes have become rimmed with red again. Back bowed at a painful angle, Hux holds his stringy ginger hair racked back.

Ren hadn’t been expecting to see Hux for at least another week and he looks like he desperately needs several days of just lying in bed.

Suddenly the clacking of the keyboard halts. Hux’s hands hover some scant inches above the keys before his palms are jerked upward and mushed against his face, stifling several cough that wreck through his chest. Once the tremors have stopped, Hux uncaringly swipes the back of his palm across his mouth and sets back to typing. His eyes look too glassy and cheeks flushed.

Stepping slightly forward form amid the shelves, Ren calls out, “Hux.”

No response. He doesn’t seem to notice Ren as he narrows his eyes at the screen and mouths the words as they are being jabbed out.

“Hux!”

Finally, Hux looks away from the screen and notices Ren who gives him a slight wave. Hux blinks at him once and lifts up his left hand before dutifully returning to work, coughing slightly into his sleeve.

A few minutes later a cup of water appears next to Hux with a tacked on post-it that reads “hydration prevents imminent death. FACT”. It takes him a moment to realise that is not a hallucination.

 

Most of the evening Ren spends on the archives and in the linguistics block, trying to navigate through tomes with titles in languages he cannot read (hence the handy codes). As he works, he tries to convince himself not to bother Hux; it’s none of his business and Hux is an adult – he knows what’s best for him.

At eleven p.m., Ren almost manages it until he is standing on the second landing. He was about to go through toward the conference rooms until he glanced through the glass of the double doors that lead to the adjacent floor. Ren can’t see him, but he knows that Hux is there, probably working himself into an early grave for no good reason.

The doors slap to a close behind Ren as he enters the room. Hux is exactly where Ren left him. The accumulation of papers has grown on the desk, some notes scrunched up while others are neatly piled atop of books. Hux’s nose is almost jammed into the screen of his laptop that is plugged to an extension lead.

Ren edges in behind Hux and, not knowing how to do this a better way, taps him on the shoulders.

Hux startles in his seat, jerking up and snapping around. This close, Ren can see how sickly Hux looks: His skin appears patchy and grey with heavy bruises under his eyes. It seems like he has forgotten to eat or sleep and hasn’t recovered from being sick before throwing himself back into work.

“What do you want?” Hux spits. “Can’t you see that I am busy.” The words break off as he starts coughing violently.

Ren raises his hands defensively. “Alright, chill. Just thought I should remind you that it’s late.”

“And?” Hux bites out hoarsely.

“You should get home and rest.”

Hux snorts and turns away from Ren. “I don’t need you to baby me. Get back to work or something.”

Ren frowns and drops his hands to the desk behind him – trying to hide how they fist. “I’m not babying you. You’re sick. Go home. Get some rest.” He sighs, looking at Hux pitifully. “I get it. Okay? I really get it, but you need to—”

Whipping around, Hux scowls. “You know what Ren,” he barks in the silent room. “Go back to scraping up your minimum wage and don’t bother me again.”

Recoiling, Ren stares down at Hux.

If he was a better person, seeing Hux’s bloodshot eyes and hearing the crack in his voice, Ren would have accepted that this is the sickness riddled thoughts that are talking – not Hux. He would have calmly pressed on, ignoring the harsh words and urged Hux to go home.

But he is not a better person.

“You piece of shit,” Ren says and storms out of the room, ignoring how the doors clatter behind him.

 

The stained glass windows glitter in the lights of the chandeliers that hang over the carved drawing tables that are set between the tall bookcases with red leather bound tomes. Nobody uses these books, but during the day students cluster here as they make the best use of the strict no noise policy.

Ren is whistling to ‘Let’s Dance to Joy Division’ that is blasting through his earphones at a volume that effectively renders him deaf as he walks casually through the room. It’s almost four a.m. and bundled into his jacket and numerous layers of hoodies and t-shirts, Ren is making a beeline for the elevators to the lobby.

After he made a lap of the main building to calm himself down enough to avoid making regrettable decisions (such as kicking down several bookcases and creating a very satisfying domino effect), Ren holed himself up in a study cubicle and crammed in the final chapters of _‘Emma’_. Afterwards, in a much calmer mood, he kept his mind busy with work.

The wind is rattling the windows and all Ren can think of is his bed and the overheating battery of his laptop. He almost skips from the computer lab room when Ren suddenly notices a neat little stack of books set aside on a desk.

The carpet squeaks as he stops.

Counting down to ten, Ren breathes in deeply, takes out his earphones and edges toward the books.

Honestly, he could leave it for the next group of people who will be on a shift till midmorning or some other insomniac who is crammed into a corner of the library. But after managing to battle through his procrastinating laziness, Ren is not going to let go of his good streak.

Sucking it up, Ren takes the books, groans when he sees the archive codes and trudges toward the elevator. Taking a ride up a floor, Ren marches out to be over and done with this as quickly as possible.

Quietly, he slips through the doors and scuttles looking for the right shelves. Navigating through the numbers swiftly, Ren manages to get rid of the first three volumes. He is just about to jam the last tome in place when he hears a faint snore.

Slipping in the book amongst the leather skins of its neighbours, Ren furrows his brow and steps out from between the shelves where he stands at the end of the room.

Hux is sitting crumpled across a desk under the beaming screen of his laptop, faint snores reaching back to Ren.

For a moment, he thinks of calling out to Hux, but he is clearly dead to the world. What a pitiful fuck.

Squaring himself up, Ren marches down, ready to shake Hux awake and leave it at that. Or maybe he will just stick a post-it to his forehead and leave him to wake up when the students begin to pile at nine.

All of the plans diminish when Ren stands over Hux whose face is pillowed on the keyboard of his laptop, surrounded by open books covered in scraps of annotated paper.

Curling his arms around his head, Hux swallows and begins to snore once again as his lips part a little. He looks so stupidly young, like a sixteen-year-old kid who worked into the night trying to prepare for an exam in the morning. Scared to disappoint their parents.

Ren can’t help his smile at the sight of Hux nuzzling against his own arm – deep asleep.

With a sigh, he begins to dismantle the walls Hux had built around himself, careful not to dislodge any of the notes. He can’t quite take the notebooks as they are wedged under Hux’s head. Packing the tomes into neat stacks on the desk behind him, Ren disconnects the laptop from its charger and closes it.

Gently, Ren shakes Hux by the shoulder as he calls his name. It takes a couple of moments while Hux’s mind comes back online, clicking on as everything pieces back together. The return of his awareness could almost be recorded as he stares down the length of the desk, blinking away the dregs of sleep.

Sitting up, Hux licks over his cracked lips. His eyes slowly focus on Ren, confusion and frustration painting over his face.

Noticing the hand that is still on his shoulder, Hux slaps Ren away. “Didn’t I tell you to get lost five minutes ago?” he mutters, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Hux…” Ren reaches out again.

“I said get the fuck away!” Hux grasps Ren’s hands and roughly shoves them away with a scowl. But in the same moment, he snatches a glimpse over Ren’s shoulder of the clock face on the far wall.

Seeing open petrified expression that is marring Hux’s face, Ren asks, “What’s wrong?”

Jerking out of his stupor, with flustered movements Hux struggles to find his phone. He clicks on the display with shacking clammy hands and stares at the blinking numbers. The phone is dropped back onto the table, the plastic cracking against the wood before skidding across the surface. Hux doesn’t seem notice as his eyes fleet wildly, chest heaving.

“No… No, no, no, no!” Hux stammers as his voice cracks. “No! It can’t be!” He struggles up from his seat, papers fluttering around him while he grasps hold of notebooks that lied wide open across the desks.

“No…” Hux gasps, his eyes wide, panicked, as his hands tense on the papers, crumpling the smudged handwriting and blacked out prints. “No, it was only five minutes.”

“Hux—” Ren tries to take hold of Hux and stop him for a moment when suddenly he slips out of reach.

Hux slumps in the chair, back bowed as he crumples, forehead thumping against the desk with the constant garbled stream of “no”. But eventually even the words die out as Hux struggles through his heaved breathing that distorts every syllable, chocking Hux as he tries to swallow down air.

“Hux.” Ren kneels down in front of him, reaching out to place his hands on Hux’s shoulders, thumbs smoothing over the sharp juts of the bones. “Hey, what’s the matter?” he asks softly, trying to make sense of the muffled whimpers.

Fingers twist in Hux’s hair as his back begins to shake, trying to force out coherent words. “I-I fucked up,” he whispers, “I fucked up, damn you.” Hux’s breath hiccups. “I’m behind on everything. I didn’t do good enough. It’s my fucking fault.”

“What are you talking about? It wasn’t your fault,” says Ren, gently untangling Hux’s fingers from the twisted pieces of hair. “You are tired, you worked too hard; you didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

This causes Hux to look up. His eyes are bloodshot, lips bitten red and cheeks wet.

Ren reaches out and brushes away the stray tears. “It wasn’t your fault,” Ren repeats. “Understood?”

Slowly, Hux nods.

“Good.” Ren smiles. “Now we are going to get out of here and you will get some rest, yeah?”

Another reluctant nod.

“Alright, well, this needs to be sorted out first,” says Ren, vaguely gesturing towards the mounds of paper that still clutter the desks.

Scrubbing his face with the edges of his sleeves, Hux moves to collect the papers. Instantly Ren stands up and halts him, pushing Hux to sit back down.

“No, you just sit,” he says. “I’ll sort it out.”

With a sigh, Hux slouches down and watches as Ren methodically collects stray papers and squares them, putting them into folders as directed by Hux. The books are cleared away and what is not needed is placed onto the carts for the morning shift to sort. The wires around bound up and placed into Hux’s backpack along with everything else.

“Ren?”

He looks up from the backpacks strained zipper that is threatening to explode in his face. “Hm?”

Hux brushes back his hair, sniffling. “I’m sorry about what I said.”

Ren tries not to show his shock and nods in acknowledgment. “Don’t worry about it.”

“And Ren?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

 

“I haven’t broken my arms, you know.”

“I know.”

“Then maybe you could let me carry my own bag?”

“Nope.” Ren smirks down at Hux who only pouts.

The wind has calmed down since they left the library premises and the chill of the night is pleasant as Ren and Hux slowly walk through the empty city streets in the gathering cover of morning fog.

Instead of taking Hux home, Ren nudged him toward his own apartment as it is a shorter walk from the college campus (and besides, maybe the roommate is preoccupied). It doesn’t seem that Hux particularly minds or he doesn’t actually care where he ends up tonight considering that he is leaning on Ren for support as his legs shake with every step and mind struggles to keep up with the world.

“Really, I could carry it on my own,” Hux mutters, tugging his scarf up higher.

“Yeah, totally.” Ren does not admit that he is struggling with the weight of the single backpack himself. “I’m really glad you agreed to come with me.”

“Why’s that?” The words slur into one another and it’s painfully obvious that Hux is hanging onto consciousness with teeth and nails.

“I would’ve had to do what I once did to a badger.”

Hux glances up cautiously. “What did you do to a badger?”

“I found it hiding behind a bike shed on campus and sprayed it with an entire can of wasp spray until it ran away,” Ren confesses.

“Instead of calling pest control.”

“It was two in the morning,” helplessly Ren protests.

“Mm.” Hux doesn’t look convinced.

“Oh screw you, I was in mortal danger,” Ren mutters as he grapples for his house keys.

Hux stumbles up the steps behind Ren as he opens the door into the apartment building. It’s no less chilly inside the corridor that leads up to the second floor.

Almost tripping over his own sleep tied feet, Hux has to be guided through the living room as Ren pulls off his coat and unwraps the scarf from Hux’s neck.

“What—” Hux gasps when he is pushed into the bedroom that is dimly lit by the window.

“Get some sleep, I’ll take the couch,” explains Ren, prodding Hux toward the bed.

Once he has Hux sitting on the edge of the mattress, Ren kneels down to remove Hux’s shoes (Hux sleepily insists on chucking off his socks too). By the time he is done, Hux has his face balanced on his palms, shifting himself awake every time he begins to drift.

“I’ll be right back,” Ren says and disappears through the door.

In a closet in the living room there is a stack of blankets that have accumulated due to Ren forgetting what homeware necessities he already has and which he still needs to buy after moving into his own apartment. Of course, this led to Ren overbuying certain objects (sometimes even in threes or fours). Many he just returned to the store, but the blankets ended up becoming a very useful collection.

Taking about four woollen blankets, Ren trudges back into the bedroom.

“If you try to get up at ass crack of dawn I will—” Ren halts in the doorway, words lost on his tongue.

Curling in the edge of the quilt, Hux lies on the bed with his knees to his chest, features lost under the stray pieces of his hair that shift as he breathes.

It’s almost too easy to mistake Hux for a lump of the covers if it wasn’t the steady rise and fall of his chest, so small it’s not a cruel mistake to think he is a younger than he is.

One by one, Ren unfolds the blankets and tucks them around Hux, layering them until he is confident not a breath of cold air with steal inside. Neatly, he pulls away the edges from Hux’s face, knuckles skimming against his jaw.

By impulse, Ren reaches out and brushes back the pieces of fallen copper hair from where they lied on Hux’s cheek and tucks them back behind his ear. Ren can’t stop himself from letting his fingertips draw over the pale skin, speckled with freckles like stardust, excusing it on making sure that Hux hasn’t got a fever (he is fine).

Before Ren can do anymore damage, he leaves the room in search of Hux’s phone. He finds in the coat pocket, slightly damp from dense fog that clung like rain.

Surprisingly, the phone is not passcode protected (maybe it’s because no sane human being would dare to steal from Hux in the fear of being beaten to death by a skinny sleep deprived ginger) and Ren flicks off all of the alarms before quickly typing out a message to Phasma. He tells her not to worry, Hux is safe and he is staying with Ren – making sure to clarify that it’s Ren sending the message.

And now—

Ren stands in the middle of the living room, the blank screen of the phone staring up at him as he looks around.

The outlines of the street outside are almost imperceptible through the fog, oozing into every alley and swallowing all passing shadows until there isn’t a trace of them left behind. It’s dark and cold, and for once the city is silent – if only in the early hours of the morning.

There is nothing left for Ren to do but sleep.

 

The light of dawn is still far over the horizon and the orange streetlights burn brightly through the fog. It’s so cold it can be easily mistaken for winter as frost coats pipes and door handles.

Water drips from a faucet somewhere inside the apartment, echoing against the metal rim of a sink as floorboards creak like the body of a ship. In the hour of such impossible silence, the sound is an earthquake that shakes Ren awake where he lies on the coach under a duvet that is slipping onto the floor.

Orange light spills through the windows and it takes Ren a moment to remind himself why he isn’t in the bedroom.

Glass clinks against metal as water runs from the faucet again.

Leaning back on the armrest, Ren tips his head off the couch and looks into the alcove of the kitchen.

A car passes outside and light skims over the walls and the cabinets, catching on a stray spot of colour – Hux. He is standing in front of the sink, back to Ren, hair tangled and shoulders covered in a white woollen blanket.

“Hey. Why are you awake?”

Hux turns around, eyes falling onto Ren. There is a glass of water in his hands.

“You okay?” Ren asks.

“Mhm…” Hux smiles. “Fine.” He takes a sip of the water and walks around the counter that separates the kitchen from the living room.

Looking up at the ceiling, Ren listens as the gentle footsteps trace across the floorboards. Instead of going back to the bedroom, Hux comes to stand in front of the couch, his shadow small as he clutches the blanket tightly around his shoulders.

Ren opens his mouth to ask if something is wrong when a hand is offered to him, cutting off anything he was about to say.

There is no argument as Ren sits up on the couch and takes Hux’s hand, letting the duvet fall away onto the floor as he stands. Together they walk silently back to the bedroom.

As Ren pauses by the door, Hux puts the glass of water on the floor and climbs back onto the bed, gathering the discarded blankets around himself. When Hux notices Ren lingering, he reaches out again – calling him forward.

“Get some sleep,” Hux whispers, his voice tired and worn, like he can’t quite coax himself into waking.

Ren smiles and walks around the bed to the empty side climbs onto the mattress, careful not to jostle Hux as he lies down.

There is a careful rift of space between them and Ren doesn’t even dare to pull for the covers because he is almost certain that Hux is already asleep; his body is lax and breathing slow and steady. But Ren can’t be certain because Hux is facing away from him.

Lying there, nipped by the chill of the night, Ren watches the falling light from the window slip around Hux, cradling him in the glow. He wonders how he had managed to make Hux trust him, make him willingly let Ren take care of him.

They hardly even know each other.

 

It’s finally growing light outside as the fog thins. Ren hadn’t noticed himself falling asleep until a pair of very cold feet plant themselves against his thighs and yank him out of a dream.

Ren tries to squirm away from the cold, but he doesn’t want to dislodge himself from the lump of warmed up blankets in front of him. That is… until he opens his eyes.

The moment he moves, Ren realises that his forehead has been pressed against a very warm, solid surface – namely Hux’s freckled back with his sweater ridden up – and his free hand that isn’t pressed under his own side is clamped onto what is very likely to be Hux’s waist.

Sometime during the night, Ren had slipped down the bed, burrowed through the tight cocoon of blankets around Hux and clung onto him in a subconscious attempt to leach out some heat. Now, Ren is positively toasty and when he tries to move, he feels Hux push back against him, curving his spine as if he is trying to shift closer toward Ren.

Holding his breath with his jaw clamped tightly shut, Ren begins to slowly shimmy back, carefully dislodging himself from Hux. But the moment he moves his hand away from where it lied on the bare surface of Hux’s waist, he is stopped.

Fingers lock around his own, pulling Ren’s hand closer until it rests on the soft skin of Hux’s stomach – too low for it to be innocent.

“Don’t go—” is breathed out and when Ren looks up he sees Hux glancing at him over his shoulder, eyes sleepy and mellow. The moment Ren relaxes his hand and lets it fall when Hux had placed it, Ren sees him smile softly.

“You were shivering,” Hux whispers. “Get back up here.”

Ren hesitates for a moment before shuffling up the bed. With Hux keeping Ren in place, he can’t avoid pressing himself into him: back to chest, hip to hip.

“Still cold?” asks Hux as he continues to watch Ren over his shoulder.

“Mm…” Ren tries to carefully put some distance between them.

“Come here then.”

Before Ren can protest, he is yanked closer by his arm. Hux is arching back into his body, sighing contently when he feels Ren’s chin coming to rest on his shoulder.

Ren knows exactly where this is going and in truth, he can count several reasons why they shouldn’t be doing this. Starting right at the fact that Hux needs sleep and that he is still sick. He should be getting rest so that tomorrow morning he can get right back on his feet and start recovering from the flu.

However, Ren also knows that Hux is an adult, and if he wants this – by now it’s pretty clear that he does – there is no reason why Ren shouldn’t indulge him. After all, he wants this too; he would have said yes from day one.

Brushing his fingers over Hux’s stomach, Ren sighs into the feeling of Hux’s body against his own and massages the soft skin before lifting up his hand and brushing his fingertips up. Hux arches forward beneath Ren’s touch, chasing the feather light feeling that comes to play on his chest.

Ren relaxes against Hux’s back as he circles both his arms around him and kisses Hux’s neck gently, breathing warmly against his skin. Hux pushes his hips back, rolling them to meet the warmth of Ren’s body and tangling their legs together beneath the covers.

“Sure you wouldn’t rather sleep?” Ren asks before placing a kiss Behind Hux’s ear.

“If you even try to stop I’ll—” Hux begins but his words are muffled when Ren leans over and covers Hux’s lips with his own. Hux’s breath hitches when a hand slips up his sweater and covers his throat, staying there with barely any pressure.

“I’m not going to stop unless you want me to,” whispers Ren once them break apart, watching the sleepy hazed pale eyes look back at him in the dark.

“’Kay, but don’t.” Hux nuzzles back against Ren’s cheek, trying to shift his hips to create teasing friction even as hands hold him steady by his neck and chest.

There are no more words between them when Ren helps Hux to tug off his jeans, kicking them somewhere to the bottom of the bed as they try to hold onto the covers. While Ren is trying to pry off Hux’s underwear he leans over the bed and (as directed by Ren) finds a very conveniently placed bottle at the bottom of a drawer.

They are both too lazy to find a better position in bed, so instead they continue to lie on their sides. Still entirely clothed, Ren rocks his hips against Hux’s ass, slinging one slim bare leg around his own thigh as he chases friction.

Locking his ankle around Ren’s calf, Hux takes the hand that held him in place by his chest and tugs it down to his dick while the other continues to rest across his throat. He moans at the slightest contact and whispers pleas at Ren who happily complies.

Lazily Ren palms at Hux’s cock, running his thumb over the head and the silky skin as he bites into the back of Hux’s neck, nuzzling the fine hairs at the base of his skull. He would be content to just stay like this, keeping the slow pace under the warmth of the covers, but Hux begins to squirm, clutching Ren’s t-shirt to urge him on.

“Alright, alright,” mutters Ren as he detangles himself from around Hux and leans over him to fumble for the bottle of lube that Hux dropped in the covers.

It’s messier than Ren would like to be, feeling around in the dark, and of course he manages to splatter lube all over his hand. But it doesn’t matter, not with how Hux is whimpering when he feels Ren’s hand palming his bare ass.

The angle is awkward, but Ren manages slip one hand down and push his middle finger against Hux’s entrance, just circling it for a moment as he kisses and nips Hux’s neck. Then, carefully, he pushes in, easing back out before pressing further, listening to the noises that Hux makes until he reaches the knuckle of his hand.

Hux gasps when Ren shifts, gently slipping his finger out before building a slow pace. With his other hand, he reaches around and begins stroking Hux’s cock, earning him little muffled moans.

It doesn’t take long for Hux to begin to tug on Ren’s shirt again to get him to move on. Complying, Ren pulls back and pushes in two fingers, slippery as they stretch Hux apart. Grasping hold of Ren’s arm that is wrapped around him, still working his cock, Hux muffles his whimpers against Ren’s bicep – breathless as they are.

They continue with lazy ease and Ren is fucking Hux with three fingers, ribbing up against his prostate until Hux forces Ren’s hand away from his dick (it’s already too much).

“You ready?” Ren asks, trying to ignore how hard he is himself for Hux’s sake – trying not to rush him.

Hux nods. “Yeah, yeah.”

Fingers slip from Hux’s body and his legs jerk slightly. Ren has to carefully extract himself from around Hux to pull down his sweatpants just enough take his own dick out and slick it with lube.

“You better be clean,” says Hux when he feels Ren pull him closer, holding him by the hip.

“I am, promise,” Ren mutters, trying to concentrate.

“If you are not, I will grate your dick off myself.”

“You need to work on your bedside manners, honey.”

“Honey my ass,” spits Hux and kicks Ren’s leg.

“Hmm… maybe someday.”

Hux’s retort is choked off as Ren begins to push into him, taking Hux’s hips with both of his hands when he is halfway in. It takes Ren a moment to steady his breathing before seating himself fully inside.

Wrapping his arms around Hux’s chest and hips, Ren pulls him close, breathing into Hux’s neck as they both wait for their pounding hearts to calm. Hux attempts to shift but Ren’s holds on tight, keeping Hux in place as he uselessly tries to hold back shallow thrusts that rock through Hux’s body.

“Fuck—” Ren gasps, squeezing his eyes shut. “What even are you…”

“What is that supposed to mean?” mumbles Hux.

“Nothing.” Ren brushes away Hux’s hair from his forehead and kisses him on the hinge of his jaw. “You good?”

“Mhmm,” Hux manages, wiggling back a little.

With that, Ren hitches up Hux’s left leg over his own thigh and draw back a little before thrusting, punching a gasp out of Hux. He would like to think that there is some skill and experience going into this, but really, both he and Hux are too damn fucking exhausted and sleep muddled to even try to pretend that they are doing anything other than rutting.

Hux tries open his leg further apart to get Ren’s cock deeper into him, body arching forward as he clings onto Ren’s arm that crosses over his clothed chest – keeping him close. Their rhythm is awkward and movement limited as the covers they are now too lazy to push back still lie over them.

“Come on, come on,” moans Hux as he reaches back around and grabs Ren by his ass, causing him to make a sudden sharp thrust.

Ren thumps his forehead against Hux’s shoulder blades, tensing as Hux squeezes his fingers that are still latched onto Ren’s ass. “That’s playing dirty,” he whines, face scrunched up.

“Exactly,” Hux grins as he pushes back. “Now, come _on_.”

Ren doesn’t need to be told again. Hitching up Hux’s leg onto the crook of his elbow, Ren begins fucking into him, holding Hux steady as he drops forward from each thrust. Ren keeps his face burrowed in Hux’s neck, gasping in tandem with him – already growing too warm under the covers.

Eventually, the rhythm falters and Ren’s thrusts grow shallower, pitched at an angle that whenever he grinds forward his hips, Hux is keeling forward with barely restrained moans. Hux is the first to go, pitching off with a shudder, biting down onto his fingers and tightening around Ren who continues to fuck him through it.

Once Hux has stopped trembling, Ren pulls out of him and with his teeth in Hux’s shoulder, he quickly finishes himself off, coming over Hux’s exposed back under the rucked up sweater.

“You fucker,” Hux mumbles against the pillow.

“Mhmm.” Ren nuzzles against Hux’s back, curling around him while he catches his breath.

Once Ren has sufficiently unclouded his mind from the afterglow, he sits up, strips off his t-shirt and uses it to wipe himself and Hux down. After discarding it on the floor, Ren pulls his pants back up before plotting himself down against the headboard.

“Come ‘ere,” Ren says, grasping for Hux who hasn’t moved an inch.

“Don’t wanna,” protests Hux as he already begins to fall back asleep.

Ren smirks. “I promise you will be comfier.” There are no more protests as he pulls Hux onto his lap, head nested under Ren’s chin and legs slung onto one side.

With the blankets scattered around them, Ren pulls several up and tucks them around Hux, making sure that his icicle feet are covered. With that done, Ren wraps his arms around Hux and plops his chin on the ginger mop of hair.

“Now you can sleep,” Ren says with a satisfied sigh. However, after a moment, Ren realises that Hux is already snoring softly against his chest.

 

The fog has cleared from the streets leaving behind the bareness of the oncoming winter as the pale sun washes through the clear skies. The roads are clogged with traffic and people are rushing on the sidewalks, voices trying to rise above one another.

By the time Hux begins to wake up Ren has waiting on him for about an hour, watching the morning light crawl across the walls as he plays with the edges of the blankets.

“G’morning,” Ren says, kissing the back of Hux’s neck when he begins to shift.

“’Morning,” mumbles Hux as he flops over onto his other side with a groan – being careful not to slip off Ren’s lap.

“Do you have to be anywhere today?” asks Ren.

There is a faint grumble as Hux scrubs his hands over his eyes. “It’s Sunday, right?”

“Yup.”

“Then I’m free. Unless Phasma decides to pummel me to death for disappearing.”

Ren snorts and holds Hux closer. “Don’t worry, I took care of her; I texted her last night that you are with me.”

“Oh did you?” Hux relaxes slightly, sighing. “Means I have the whole day to myself.”

“That’s good, because you are going to stay in bed and I am gonna make you breakfast.”

Before there can be any groaning or complaining Ren pries himself from under Hux and slips off the bed. Glancing over his shoulder at the glaring lump of blankets, Ren snatches up the dirty t-shirt form the floor and leaves the room with a wink.uHux

During the night, Hux was a constant warm presence on Ren’s chest that kept him from getting cold. Now, however, as he wanders toward the kitchen, the chill is making itself known along with the faint smell of stale sweat (Ren probably should have made showering priority but screw that).

With the stained t-shirt chucked into the washing machine, Ren sets to rummaging through the fridge and cupboards. The bread has already gone to shit so toast is out of the question and Hux’s usual efficient bowl of cereal doesn’t seem appropriate. An omelette it is…

Cars rush outside, the light reflected off their windows glancing through the apartment. People laugh and shout, footsteps tumbling along the pavement. All so distant from the small pocket of calm and quiet that holds Hux and Ren cocooned.

The smell of cooking is filling the open rooms while Ren is stands against a counter, staring up at the ceiling as he waits for the omelette to set.

“Ren!” sounds from the bedroom.

“Yeah?” Ren calls back, not looking from the slightly grey spot on the ceiling.

“Do you have anything for a headache?”

Ren considers for a moment. He doesn’t have anything that could be called a ‘medicine cabinet’ so to speak of; everything that is important he keeps underhand, which is either in the bedroom or in the pockets of his clothes.

“Try the drawers under the bed,” Ren calls out. “Or the floor,” he adds after a moment.

The omelette is finally done Ren switches off the stove and plates the omelette out without a hassle (decorating it appropriately).  

Just as Ren leaves to return to the bedroom, he hears a clatter of something and another shout.

“Ren?”

“Yea’?” He pushes open the door and sees Hux cloaked in about three blankets while hanging off the edge of the bed with a packet of pills in one hand. The other hand is rummaging through a drawer.

“What is this?” Hux holds out an object from the drawer that Ren recognises as a tube of lipstick.

Setting down the plate and cutlery onto the floor at the foot of the bed Ren walks up to the open drawer and sees various containers of cosmetics rattling around along with a copy of _‘North and South’_ and _‘Jane Eyre’_.

Folding his arms, Ren replies, “That’s makeup.”

“Why do you have it?” Hux asks. He doesn’t look either angry or disgusted, or perhaps it’s the vulnerability of his half-awake state.

“Sometimes I like to wear it.”

“Huh,” is all that Hux says as he turns over the tube in his hand, inspecting the matte black casing,

Ren frowns down at Hux. “Is that a problem?”

Hux startles. “No, it’s just that—” He shoves his hands into his lap. “I’ve just never seen you wear it.”

Easing up a little at that, Ren smirks. “Yeah well, maybe you were too busy French kissing your laptop screen to notice.”

Hux says nothing. Putting down the pills, he reaches back into the drawer, replacing the lipstick before picking up another. He inspects the label at the bottom before uncapping it twisting the casing. The lipstick appears black but Ren knows for a fact that it’s a deep purple plum colour that is only visible on skin.

“Come here,” says Hux, indicating for Ren to lean forward.

“What are you going to do?” Ren asks.

“Just come here.”

Ren rolls his eyes and shuts the drawer so that he can get onto his knees in front of Hux. There are almost exactly at eye level and Ren cocks his head in question.

Shuffling to the edge of the mattress, Hux tips up Ren’s chin with his knuckles. With his face pinched in concentration, he lifts up the lipstick and gently presses it to Ren’s bottom lip, slowly drawing it across the contours. Hux is so cautious with his movements, like he trying to repair masterpiece which only he has been trusted with.

Ren leans into the careful touch, closing his eyes and letting his lips fall slightly open. The lipstick follows the shape of his upper lip, filling in the gaps with attentive precision.

A few more swipes and suddenly, the touch is gone and there is a firm click as the lipstick is recapped.

Opening his eyes, Ren arches a brow and smiles at Hux who is still watching him uncertainly. “Am I pretty now?” Ren asks.

Hux scrunches up his nose and reaches up again, swiping the pad of his thumb just at the edge of Ren’s mouth. Then, Hux nods. “The prettiest,” he says, returning a tentative smile.

Without a beat of thought, Ren hooks his fingers in the collar of Hux’s sweatshirt and pulls him forward. Not expecting the press of lips to his nose, Hux startles with a yelp.

When Ren pulls away, there is a splotch of dark purple-reddish colour on Hux’s nose which scrunches up as he tries to see what has been done to him.

“Eat your breakfast, Rudolf,” Ren laughs and presses a second kiss to Hux’s cheek, staying there for a moment before running his fingertips along the line of the sharp jaw and leaning back (he can’t help but stare at the dark lipstick print on Hux’s flushed cheek).

Hux looks dazed and he all but tips from the bed in the attempt to follow Ren. But before Hux reach him, Ren stands up, grinning as he goes.

“Now that’s just playing dirty!” Hux shouts as Ren escapes into the living room.

“Exactly!” Ren calls back, followed by Hux’s laughter.

The bedroom door slips shut behind Ren, he stops – struck by the silence of the apartment.

Behind Ren, the sheets rustle on the bed as Hux lets his feet drop to the floor. The light is playing across the boards, scattering between the support beams. The duvet is still lying across the floor in front of the couch and the abandoned phone is on the coffee table – silent.

Suddenly, Ren realises that, for once, everything is okay and he is right where he should be. It might be strange to admit it, but, he hasn’t fucked this up and maybe he even did something right.

Anyway, it’s about time for a shower.

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Past Sundown (Bonus Chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ([ง](http://beeeeebeeee.tumblr.com/)ツ)[ว](https://play.spotify.com/user/blessedbytheash/playlist/1lxzpgeVgEVqUUtf7OyBZk)

_About a month later_

“Look, I don’t understand, how come you always only have half an egg in your fridge?”

Ren startles and stares down at Hux. “That is a filthy, filthy lie. I had three quarters of an egg once and you very well know that I—”

“That crate of beer doesn’t count.”

Ren presses his lips together into a tight line and turns to stare ahead where a bored cashier scans some old lady’s groceries.

“Anyway, as I was saying.” Hux adjusts his grip on the basket. “I don’t understand what you eat. You have been worried about me, but it is not physically possible for you to sustain yourself on a carrot stick, _half_ an egg and a can of coke.”

Quirking up an eyebrow, Ren looks at Hux from the corner of his eye. “Don’t you know?” he whispers.

Hux narrows his eyes and tenses his shoulders. “What?”

“A very long time ago when the earth was still young, after many tiring trials of peril as I searched for my destiny,” Ren proclaims in a low voice, “I was adopted by the mysterious occult of canteen workers and nursed back to health on a strict diet of coffee and muffins.” Ren rights his hold on the single baguette like it’s a sword. “It is all that I require to sustain my life force.”

Hux looks like he is biting very hard on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing. To anyone it would seem like he just tried to eat a lemon.

“Oh, hey.” Ren’s voice suddenly switches. “Did you know that strictly speaking it’s impossible to crack an egg with your b—”

“I don’t care, Ren,” Hux bites out and the line shifts.

Considering that this excursion was for Ren, he is the one who pays, whispering goodbye to his precious money all the while. He trusts Hux enough to know that real food will be worth it in the end when he breaks his religious diet of too-sweet coffee and stale donuts.

In spite of the storm that swept over the night before, there is not a breath of wind and the sky is clear. On the ground, there is a fine layer of frost dusted with snow which Ren had watched fall at five in the morning as he walked home. He wished that Hux was with him in that moment, but Hux was snoring in his very own bed, toasty and quite happy with where he was.

“So are you going back home for the holidays?” Ren asks as he steals some of the bags from Hux’s hands before coming to walk beside him on the sidewalk.

Hux snorts at the gesture and says, “No. My family isn’t particularly religious so we don’t really bother with the whole— Christmasy stuff.”

“What!” gasps Ren. “But Christmas isn’t all about butt naked baby Jesus! It’s about family too, and spending time together.”

“Well, we aren’t a very _family_ family either.” Hux shrugs. “So when Phasma leaves for the break in a couple of days, it’s just going to be me.” He sighs dramatically. “Alone.” His voice rises a little. “In an apartment with fully working heating. And a _very_ comfortable bed.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“Could be.”

“Hmm I don’t know. I will have t—”

“You know, there should be package delivered to my apartment soon. I do hope it won’t be brought to my neighbours by accident.”

“I’m in.”

 

-o-

 

Contrary to popular belief, and what Ren had originally expected, Hux does enjoy luxury. This Ren certainly appreciates as he lies across Hux’s bed, rubbing his face into a silk lined pillow, legs kicking against clean white sheets accented with deep burgundy. With Phasma gone until January, he is not concerned about making sounds that could technically be classified as pornographic as he melts into the bed.

It took some time for them to work up to Ren visiting Hux at his apartment with Phasma’s constant watchful eye fixed on him. He was quite frankly afraid that she would eat him but Hux assured Ren that she is about as interested in doing that as she is interested in fucking a man.

After growing confident in the fact that he won’t be killed, Ren set to exploring the apartment and firmly decided that he will never leave again (of course, he has to do that eventually, but not without reluctance).

Unlike his own apartment, Hux’s is comfortably furnished, tastefully decorated with framed paintings and crowded with numerous floor light fixtures. Even the kitchen doesn’t look like it belongs to a student: the fridge is always packed with fresh produce, there are never dishes stacked in the sink and cutlery is neatly arranged in drawers. No matter where Ren looked, he couldn’t find pot noodles or solidified socks and felt a sudden terrible urge to go home and clean.

“You’re not a cat, Ren. You need to stop that,” Hux says as he walks into the bedroom, smelling of flowers and berries. After lugging books from the library at eleven at night, Hux insisted that he is covered in so much sweat that he needs to scrub himself raw in the shower.

“Fuck that,” Ren mutters, burrowing his face into the molested pillow. “I will be your house cat if it means I can just stay here all day.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm.”

A hand pushes up Ren’s t-shirt, smoothing over the bumps of his spine.

“Does that mean I can pet you?”

“Yeah, do whatever the fuck you want,” Ren sighs and pushes himself up on his knees, face still buried in the pillow. He wiggles his ass in the air when he feels Hux’s fingers draw down to the small of his back, rubbing small circles.

“You look comfy,” Hux says conversationally, smoothing his hand back up Ren’s back, rucking up his t-shirt to his shoulder blades.

“I am,” groans Ren. “And your hand feels really nice.” Fingers wrap around his neck, squeezing. “Ah— shit. I bet you give the best massages.”

Suddenly, Hux stops and there is a small choked laugh. “This sounds like the build up to the worst porno.”

Ren turns his head to press his cheek against the pillow and looks up at Hux who is stood beside the bed. “I thought that’s what we are doing: filming the worst porn movie ever on your pimp bed.”

Hux grins, laughing. “Oh shut up.” He swats Ren on the hip as he walks to the other side of the bed. “I just like comfy things.”

“I’m not saying that it’s bad,” Ren says, turning his head to watch Hux kneel down in front of a set of drawers. “I would totally let you be my pimp.”

“You are ridiculous,” mutters Hux and opens a drawer that is out of sight from Ren.

“And that’s why you love me.”

There is a flush spreading across Hux’s cheeks and Ren can’t help himself but reach out brush his knuckles over the spots of colour.

Hux swats Ren away, still smiling. “Stick your face back in the pillow,” he says.

“You say the sweetest things, darlin’,” Ren coos but does as he is told.

The drawer is closed again and the mattress creaks as Hux gets onto it behind Ren. A warm presence falls over his back as Hux slots his hips against Ren’s and kisses him on the back of his neck. “Wish I could keep you here all day.”

Before Ren can say anything, fingers hook themselves in the waistband of his jeans and pry them down along with his underwear to the midway of his thighs. The soft fabric of Hux’s pyjama pants brushes against Ren’s ass as kisses continue to be delivered against his neck and the exposed skin of his shoulders. Ren can’t help but moan when he feels fingers massage his hips.

“So, what did you have planned for me?” Ren asks, bucking back against Hux as a palm slips down to brush teasingly against his half hard cock.

“Who said that I planned anything?” murmurs Hux as he toys with Ren’s dick, feeling him harden in his palm. “Maybe you just got me inspired.”

Ren lets out a startled laugh that is muffled by the pillow. “Best compliment ever,” he practically squeaks.

The warm presence lifts away from Ren’s back and he tries to push toward Hux's slim hips and clever hands to feel their touch again.

A bottle cap clicks and Ren hears a viscous liquid hit against a surface. It squelches as the covers rustle, mattress dipping slightly under Hux’s weight. A warm kiss is pressed to the small of Ren’s back as he uselessly tries to spread his legs further apart – bound by his jeans.

Slick fingers press against Ren’s perineum, knuckles rubbing there as Ren tries his best not to squirm. The touch draws up and slick fingertips brush against Ren’s entrance, dipping in slightly past the rim before slipping away and circling.

Ren tries to push back but the touch instantly withdraws. “Come on, Hux! Are you going to fuck with those pretty hands of yours o—” His words pitch off into a startled squeak as his weight falls forward. “Fuck.” He groans, feeling Hux’s index finger rubbing inside him.

“What was that?” Hux asks with a grin in his voice.

It takes a moment for Ren to formulate his thought as he becomes distracted by pleasure short-circuiting his mind. “Pretty… so, so pretty… and clever,” he whimpers, pushing back onto Hux’s hand. 

“Why thank you, Ren.”

Hux withdraws his hand but before his touch can be missed, he shoves two slicked fingers inside Ren, causing him to jolt forward.

Pressing down the heel of his palm into Ren’s perineum, Hux rubs the pads of his fingers against the walls of Ren's entrance, taunting desperate noises out of him. Ren rocks back on his knees, keeping his face firmly pressed down against the pillow while his hands twist in its edges.

Hux spreads his fingers, stretching the rim apart before ducking down and swiping his tongue over it. Ren’s toes curl as he feels the tip of Hux’s tongue dip inside, pressing up and rubbing against the soft, slick walls. Ren shudders as spit drips down his skin and fingers squelch when they begin to thrust inside of his again.

Leaning back, Hux continues to fuck Ren with two fingers, curling them to press against Ren’s prostate. It wouldn’t be a lie to say that Ren bit down on the pillow several times to keep himself from making embarrassing noises.

“You think you need more?”

“Nope,” Ren instantly pipes up. “Nope, nope. I’m fine. Perfectly fine.”

Hux laughs. “Alright. Now let’s get these off you.” He begins to tugging down the jeans off Ren, careful not to let him fall as he pulls them over the knees.

Once free, Ren spreads his legs apart and presses his head against his forearms. He waits impatiently as the bottle cap opens again and he hears the sounds of a hand steadily spreading lube.

Hux’s hand covers the small of Ren’s back and he bites his bottom lip when he feels the first press, slowly shoving inside, firm and unyielding. Wait— No. That’s not right.

“Hux. What the fuck? That is _not_ your dick.”

“You wish it was.”

Ren pushes himself up on his hands and looks over his shoulder. Behind him, Hux is kneeling, still fully clothed and flushed, lips bitten red. One hand is still resting just above Ren’s ass while the other one is pushing something inside of him – pink and clearly plastic, glistening wet under the lights.

Groaning, Ren drops his head back onto the pillows. “You are trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he mutters.

“Well shit, you’ve caught me,” Hux laughs and squeezes Ren’s hip before continuing to guide the pink toy inside him.

Ren’s back bows when Hux pulls back the toy and makes a shallow thrust, tilting it just so for its stretch to make itself known. Hux watches Ren for a while, slowly building up the pace as his free hand roams over Ren’s back, ribs and thighs, teasing him with the scratches of his nails.

Eventually, when Ren becomes impatient, Hux leans over him, continuing to thrust in the toy as he drops his weight onto Ren’s back, enjoying the little yelp he lets out.

“Want more?” Hux whispers, brushing his lips against the shell of Ren’s ear.

“Please,” breathes Ren.

There is a faint click and then strangled moan is ripping out of Ren’s throat. His entire body shudders beneath Hux as vibrations join in with the steady thrusts of the toy that keeps fucking into him, pressing into his prostate until Ren wants to scream.

With a single harsh shove, Hux keeps the vibrator pressed in, jabbing into the spot that makes Ren sob against the pillows and his legs shake. Hux rubs the toy in small circles as he laves the back of Ren’s neck with kisses and bites, nuzzling into his hair.

It appears like Ren’s legs around about to give out with how much he is trembling underneath Hux. So he eases up on the toy and lifts up his own weight.

“Want to turn around?” Hux asks and after a weak nod from Ren, he removes the vibrator and sits back on his haunches.

It takes a moment for Ren to flop onto his back, even with Hux’s help. His legs feel useless and heavy, bone replaced with jelly and mind overwhelmed – struggling to keep up with coordination. But eventually he manages it.

Hux spreads Ren’s shaky legs and kneels back between them. Ren wants to tell Hux to just fuck him already (with his own goddamn cock), but he seems to be enjoying himself so Ren lets Hux bite at his neck and press the vibrator back inside with ease.

The pace quickly built back up and with the toy firmly pressed inside Ren, Hux rucks up his t-shirt and begins to bite at his chest, licking over his nipples and dragging his teeth over Ren’s collarbone. Even with the sweet attention that Ren is being given, it doesn’t feel like enough.

Grasping Hux by his jaw with both of his hands, Ren drags him up and pulls him into a rough kiss. They pull on each other’s lips, biting down and licking into the messy kiss. Ren is shoving his ass back onto the toy, meeting Hux’s hand half way through each thrust and rocking onto the hilt. He is completely lost in the feeling on Hux’s lips against his own and the steady thrum inside of him.

Suddenly, a moan chokes off Ren and he gasps into Hux’s mouth, bowing up beneath him as his hands fall to the bed, fisting the covers. With a bite to his neck and one precise thrust of the toy into his body, Ren comes with a broken cry.

Hux continues to kiss him through it, switching off the toy and keeping the pressure inside of Ren until his body becomes limp, trembling faintly as he tries to catch his breath.

With a press of his lips to the bridge of Ren’s nose, Hux pulls away from him, slipping the vibrator out of his body.

“You fuckin’ villain,” Ren whispers as he covers his flushed red face with his hands. “Is this how you torture information out of your victims?”

“It’s my favourite method,” says Hux, getting off the bed and heading toward the bathroom.

“I will _never_ tell you where the map is!” Ren shouts, laughing, as he hears something clatter in the bathroom sink.

“We’ll see about that!” yells back Hux. He is smiling as he comes back into the room and plops down onto the bed, grabbing the edge of the covers and rolling both him and Ren in them.

Ren wraps his arms around Hux who tumbles onto his chest, still grinning as he plants his face against Ren’s collarbone. Tucking the covers around Hux, Ren pulls him up, kissing him on his cheeks and forehead.

“Wait.” Ren suddenly pulls back, looking up at Hux’s sleep hazed face. “Do you want me to—?” Prying out a hand from under the blanket, Ren wiggles his fingers.

Hux snorts and slaps down Ren’s hand. “No, we still have morning and I’m absolutely not done with you.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Certainly.”

“Then I’m expecting your worst.”

 

-o-

 

The tops of the glass skyscrapers have become lost in the dark sky as the lights of the city glance against the lower floors, providing what little sanctuary there is from the gloom of winter. Amid a square formed by the buildings, pinpricks of silver and gold lights blink in the branches of trees that surround a platform atop of which stand Christmas decorations. The crowds are beginning to build as people pour in, milling around in groups as conversations tangle in the air.

“This is the worst idea.”

“Best worst idea,” corrects Ren.

Hux pulls a frown as he takes a sip of decaf from the paper cup. The lid has been stained with red prints from Ren’s lipstick and some of it has been transferring onto Hux’s lips (mission accomplished on Ren’s account), painting them into a pretty blush colour.

“It’s just lights being switched on, I don’t understand the fuss,” Hux grumbles as he glances around the crowds.

“Well…” Ren shrugs, jostling the black scarf that is draped around his shoulders to form a cowl. “I lied, it’s not about the lights. You tried to start a conversation with the photocopiers so I decided to remind you that there is such thing as the human civilisation.”

Hux gives him a look that implies that he is prepared to throw his coffee (glorified hand warmer) at Ren if provoked. But instead he takes a sip from the cup and turns away with the swirl of his dark grey coat.

Taking a moment, Ren watches the winking gold lights of the strings of bulbs in the trees play in Hux’s hair that falls over his eyes soft and loose. Despite Hux trying to show how much he dislikes being here, he doesn’t seem to regret letting Ren pull from behind his laptop.

Watching the clouds of his warm breath rise above the canopy of the tree above, Hux sighs contently into the chilly winter air. For once, he seems entirely present and calm.

Unable to hold his hands twisted behind his back any longer, Ren steps forward and wraps his arms around Hux from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder.

“So what do you thinks sounds better,” asks Ren. “ _’The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy’_ or _‘Dark Crystal’_?”

Hux glances over his shoulder, coming nose to nose with Ren, and raises an eyebrow. “You know, I did google _‘Dark Crystal’_ and the only way you can get me to watch it is by knocking me out and tying me down to the couch.”

Ren sniggers. “That’s a plan.”

“Mhmm,” Hux hums and takes a sip of the coffee, his free hand coming to cover Ren’s where the fingers interlock over his stomach.

“I still need you to help me choose a Christmas card to send to my parents,” mumbles Ren. “I was thinking of getting one with the collage of awkward family Christmas photos. What do you think?”

“All of them are yours I’m assuming?”

Before Ren can throw back a sharp word or a glare, the Christmas lights flash on around them in a dazzling wave of electricity. The crowds cheer, pushing closer to take a better look as the lights zip up toward the tree that stands on the central platform.

By some ridiculous and stupid chance, at the very same moment, clumps of snow like fluffy cotton begin to fall. Both Ren and Hux look up to watch the snowflakes swirl in from the dark to catch in their hair and clothes, melting as soon as they touch.

“That is so cliché,” Ren mutters.

“Yes,” agrees Hux. “Awfully cliché.”

“You know what we should do?”

Hux glances over his shoulder with suspicion. “Don’t.”

“We’ve got to,” insists Ren, his face blank and betraying nothing.

“Ren. _Don’t_ ,” Hux repeats firmly.

This does nothing to deter Ren as he takes hold of Hux’s waist, spins him around, making him yelp from the suddenness, and presses their lips together. Hux cries out and swats at Ren desperately (dropping the coffee cup in the process which is thankfully almost entirely empty).

“No, no!” Hux shouts, laughing despite himself when lipstick smudges over his cheek as he tries to turn away. “Stop it!” Hux goes to duck out of Ren’s arms, but he is held tight as Ren continues to press kisses onto Hux’s lips – playful and brief.

“You’re horrible, Ren!” Hux cries between what can only be described as giggles.

Continuing to struggle, Hux tries to twist out of Ren’s embrace when suddenly, he is free. Before he can make a run for it, hands cup Hux’s jaw and a single kiss is placed on his lips, far more gentle and deep than the ones that have come before it.

There is a little hitched breath as Hux startles – struck silent from the touch. Then, he begins relaxes into the feeling and leans in, letting his hands fall to Ren’s waist.

There is no feeling of rush or worry as they stand under the falling snow, easing into each other’s arms while they prolong the kiss and lose themselves in it, forgetting where they are even if for just a moment.

When they pull apart, the lights flickering in and out of rhythm shine over Ren’s face, revealing where his eyeliner has been smudged and lipstick worn away. Looking down, Ren bites down on the inside of his mouth, trying not to laugh at the red smeared prints on Hux’s lips and cheeks.

“You’ve got a little something,” smirks Ren and smudges his thumb over one of the marks, making it worse.

Grimacing, Hux scrunches up his nose and tries to scrub away the streaks of red with the cuffs of his jumper. Snowflakes catch on his eyelashes as he blinks rapidly, his cheeks and the tips of his ears blushing deeply with embarrassment.

“Don’t,” whispers Ren and pulls Hux’s hands away from his face and covers them with his own, warm under the fingerless gloves. 

The crowds shift around them as the snow continues to fall, undisrupted by the wind. The snowflakes cling, melting against skin and tangling in hair, but it doesn’t matter because as Ren pulls Hux forward into a kiss, there is nothing but warmth.

 

 

 

 


	4. Syntax of Dawn (Bonus Chapter 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ (ღ](https://open.spotify.com/user/blessedbytheash/playlist/1lxzpgeVgEVqUUtf7OyBZk)˘⌣˘[ღ)](http://beeeeebeeee.tumblr.com/)

The coffee table is covered in post-it notes that are connected to each other with pens and scraps of lined paper. Most of the writing is almost ineligible – scribbled out at least twice before being scratched back in. At the centre of the scattered mess is a laptop. It’s the only thing that is keeping Hux warm in the frigid, dark living room.

The thick rimmed prescription glasses are slowly slipping down Hux’s nose. Instead of pushing them up, he tilts his head back so that he can stare down the lenses. It takes a moment for Ren to realise that Hux is sat with his ass perched on a stack of textbooks.

“What did the couch do to offend you,” Ren rasps out of his sore throat as he waddles toward the kitchen sink.

“What?” Hux turns to look over the top of the couch. The sharp flick of his head sends his glasses flying across the floor.

Ren snorts. “Nothing.” He turns on the tap and fills the tea stained mug with water. “Don’t crush your glasses,” Ren says as Hux begins to paw across the floor.

There is a triumphant little sound when the glasses fall under Hux’s hand. Setting them back in place on his nose, Hux crawls toward the coffee table where he huddles over the wheezing laptop.

“What are you even doing there anyway?” Ren asks, drying the mug and setting it into a cupboard. “It’s almost ten.”

“Well, I am afraid essays won’t grade themselves no matter what time it is,” grunts Hux, already refocused on his work.

“And the—” Ren’s voice cracks like he just swallowed sand. He clears his throat. “And what are the diagrams for?”

“To try and work out what any of these idiots have written.” Typing resumes behind the couch.  

Ren sighs and adjusts the bundled scarf around his throat. “You should come to bed.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m serious,” Ren insists. The drawstrings of pyjama pants are becoming undone and the trouser legs are catching on his heels as he walks toward the couch. “Just because Christmas is over it doesn’t mean your break is over.” 

“This is all due in _nine days_ , Ren.”

“That’s plenty of time.”

Hux turns again and peers up at Ren who is leaning against the back of the couch. “I have to do this properly. This is the start of my career.”

“And? My ass is your pride and joy and you don’t pay this amount of attention to it.”

Hux sags a little where he sits crouched on the floor. The laptop screen is beginning to dim. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m going to put a movie on and go to bed early. You should join.” Ren shrugs underneath his thick woollen sweater.

Hux looks mournfully at his work. “I—I can’t.” He turns back toward the keyboard, prodding the touchpad to revive the laptop.

Ren groans and plods around the couch toward the coffee table. A foot slams down on the glass and timber surface over the post-it notes. With one sweep of his hand, Ren yanks up the trouser leg of his pyjama pants exposing the calf that he full well knows is covered in hair like an army of spiders and a pink and purple fluffy sock decorated with unicorns.

Sitting stock still, staring at the pasty leg, Hux asks, “Um… What the fuck are you doing, Ren?”

The laptop is shoved toward the edge of the table when Ren slides his foot across its surface, crinkling and tearing post-it notes. “Take me to bed, lover,” Ren growls in a voice that should only belong in an eighties porno, “and let’s do the… _genital bonding_.”

Hux’s jaw squeaks as he clenches his teeth in a frown that distorts his face. “Get your fucking foot of the fucking table, you fucking imbecile.”

Ren pouts, keeping his bared leg solidly planted atop of the table. “I was told that his is an effective method for the seduction of young bachelors.” He thumps his fists against his hips and sighs. “How will I ever find myself a fortune now. I will become a burden to my family. We will be destitute!" 

Ren’s foot is roughly shoved back onto the floor. He stumbles, laughing.

“Go to bed, I’ll be there in a minute,” Hux says, readjusting his laptop to the centre of the coffee table.

“I’ll be waiting.” Ren winks and turns toward the bedroom door.

However, the moment Ren cocoons himself into the covers, he finds himself overcome with sudden exhaustion. Burrowing deep into the warmth, Ren falls asleep before he sees Hux come to join him.

 

When the phone begins to buzz on the floor, Ren pulls it under the blankets by the charger cord. It’s six thirty exactly and outside it’s still black. Ren feels like if he blinks he will fall asleep without even realizing it.

Peeling himself from under the covers, Ren toddles toward the door. He scratches for the handle in the dark, only getting it on the fifth try. His socked feet slide on the floorboards and sweater slips off the shoulders, exposing his neck that is only kept from the cold by his matted hair that hasn’t been cut in months.

Struggling for the coffee pot, Ren doesn’t notice the faint electric glow behind him. Once he manages to get the coffee to begin to brew, Ren stretches the sleeves of the sweater over his hands and slumps down against the counter.

That’s when he notices that the couch is emitting light.

Blinking rapidly, Ren shuffles toward the couch. When he is close enough to see over the backrest, he laughs.

“Did you actually get up extra early to get work done?” Ren smirks down at Hux who flinches.

Hux looks down right dishevelled: his hair is a sweaty mess that is sticking up from being brushed aside too often and his face looks sallow and sunken. His eyes are manic and wide like he has been peeling the lids back.

“Huh—?” is all that Hux manages.

“You do realise that picking up Rey from the station will only take like twenty minutes,” Ren mutters, propping himself against the couch. “You can do this later.”

Confused as a baby owl that just fell out of the tree hollow, Hux turns back to the laptop and squints at the clock.

“Aw _fuck_.”

 

“You really don’t have to do this if you didn’t get any sleep. I’ll be fine on my own,” Ren mutters through his scarf as he locks the front door.

Even though they are still stood in the hallway the cold is making Ren’s arms shake under the layered hoodies, sweaters and the padded bomber jacket. It’s why Hux insisted on pulling a fur lined hat with earflaps on Ren’s head and fishing out a mismatched pair of mittens (one glove pink while the other is orange).

“I really don't think that is a good idea,” argues Hux. He is still wearing his glasses that Ren takes off and puts in the pocket of his thick green parka. Hux scrunches up his nose. “I know that if I leave you alone right now, later on I will digging you out of a ditch because you saw a racoon and something happened inside your head.”

“Your faith in me is overwhelming,” sighs Ren and picks up the skateboard he left to lean beside the door.

When they walk outside the streetlights are still flaring at the ground crackles under their feet. Hux holds onto Ren by the elbow as they walk toward the train station.

 

People are sluggishly trailing in from the city, blinking at the flickering train time schedules from under woollen hats. The sky is beginning to grey – only a shade lighter than black.

When Ren and Hux had walked into the station the security at the platform gates gave the skateboard venomous looks. Hux dragged Ren outside before he got thrown out for saying something that he shouldn’t to an officer on duty. Of course, he did it under the guise of going to the McDonalds across the road from the station.

“I don’t quite understand why you agreed to this. I assume that your cousin knows the city,” Hux says halfway to biting through a hash brown.

“Yeah, well, I thought it’s something a decent person would do and I’m trying to blend in.” Ren shrugs as he slides the skateboard under one foot along the ground, back and forth.

Rey is coming to visit her boyfriend for New Year’s. It’s a surprise; she told him that she already promised her parents that she’ll stay with them for the holidays. In the meanwhile, Finn, the boyfriend, is buckling under the masses of work hours that have been heaped on him due to the seasonal hysteria.

There is going to be party, all of Finn’s and Rey’s friends and acquaintances are going to be there, and Rey is going to surprise Finn. There is still a day to go and Rey will be staying with a friend. They will be preparing everything for the party in advance, making sure it’s perfect.

Rey is also using this as an excuse to check in on Ren. She told him that she would like him to walk her to the friend’s house – not wanting to wake Jess up after a twelve-hour shift by asking her to meet Rey at the station at seven.

Rey has the house key. And she knows the way. Still.

Ren mulls over it as he chews through his bacon and egg bagel. The whole mess is softened by syrup sweetened coffee that he stole from Hux. Even with his blocked nose he can smell the absurd amount of toffee that has been pumped into the brown sludge.

 

“It’s delayed by another half an hour,” declares Hux as he remerges from the station’s automatic glass doors.

The crowds are beginning to build and the sky is the colour of a snow slurry. They had gone in for a second breakfast but Ren knows that if he has to stand around outside in the winter morning, he will be nothing but a frost-bitten corpse when Rey turns up.

“Hux, do you know how to skate?”

 

Ren is holding Hux by the biceps, feeling the muscle tensing and relaxing as Hux clings onto his shoulders. His eyes are fixed on the space between them where his feet wobble on the creaking plank of the skateboard.

The first time Hux stepped onto the board, after being coaxed, it skidded from under him and he fell on his ass. Ren thought that he would instantly step down from the challenge, but instead, with metaphorically rolled up sleeves, Hux told him to stand where he pointed and be still as he tried again.

“Wait, why dontcha—” Ren slips down his grip as Hux squeaks when the board almost rolls out from under him. “Here, gimme your hands.”

Scrabbling for support Hux clings onto Ren’s half gloved fingers.

“A-and let’s go.” Stepping back, Ren pulls Hux along with him who presses his feet down into the skateboard that slowly begins to roll in Ren’s steps.

Wobbling like a lamb, Hux manages to trail after Ren.

 

It takes him four seconds to fall forward and collapse into Ren, face first into his chest.

 

The commuters are packed inside the station. Shoulder to shoulder, jostling toward the platform entryways.

Ren is trying to look over the heads of the shoving people as Hux stares down security guards.

“Can you see her?”

“I will hear her before I see her.” Ren looks around when he feels a stare at the back of his head. “She is really short.”

In the same moment, a small mountain of bags piled around a yellow bubble coat barges against Ren’s side, yelling “Ben!”

There is a jab of a fist against Ren’s kidneys and he is sent stumbling into unassuming passers-by. Hux manages to catch him before he falls to the floor.

Unimpressed, the girl in the yellow bubble coat looks at Ren from underneath her thick white hat with a pompom almost the same size as her head. “Hey, cousin,” she says.

 

The backpack and two suitcases have been shared about been Hux and Ren while Rey takes the skateboard and disappears down the slope of the road ahead of them. Like a ball of condensed sunshine in the dimly lit winter streets, Rey seems to glow in her oversized yellow coat.

Rey waits for them to catch up at the crossroad traffic lights. Ren feels an itch begin to climb up his throat.

“Remember our high school?” Rey asks as she watches the cars pass underneath the glass buildings with high end stores on the ground floor.

“Uh-huh.” Ren nods. A café door open past the crossroad with a jingle of a bell. Ren pulls up his scarf, feeling the cold air scratch at the back of his throat. Coffee would be nice.

“They demolished it. The whole building,” Rey explains. With the push of a foot she rolls onto the crossing. Half-awake drivers watch her pass and the two men trailing after the girl, bundled in thick coats. “They did it a year after I finished. There was even a goodbye party. I thought you would have liked to see it all go down.”

Ren would have liked to watch it all fall in: the corridors where he stood pressed against the walls as teachers screamed in his face, spit splattering in his eyes; the supply closets where he was shoved inside and held in a chokehold; the bathrooms where a girl suffocated him with her kisses.

But it doesn’t matter.

“Yeah well.” Ren shrugs. “You got to watch it, right?” His voice is getting hoarse from a held back cough.

“Mhm,” Rey agrees. She tilts her back to weave the board around two women carrying large bundles of shopping bags.

Ren goes to open his mouth and as her if his old car had been dumped in a scrapyard but he begins to hack on dry coughs. Hux holds him by the arm as they stop at the side of the road, Rey’s suitcases briefly forgotten.

 

Balcony pots hang down over the sidewalk beneath the brownstone, empty but promising colour in the summer. Rey holds her gloves between her teeth as she browses through her keys. She tries one but it doesn’t fit the yellowing brass lock.

Hux slings the strap of the backpack onto the handle of the largest suitcase while picking up the other like a handbag. He wordlessly deposits both beside Rey while Ren trudges up the steps behind him, trying to tuck the edges of his flimsy scarf into the collar of the coat. Ren had been tempted to do the buckle of the hat’s earflaps but his fingers are too cold to attempt it.

Finally, a key slides past the ridges of the lock and after a few struggling turns, the glossy red door opens by a crack. Rey mutters “thanks” to Hux as she hauls the bags into the hallway of the silent brownstone.

Rey turns, her tanned, freckled face stung red by the chill. Ren continues to fiddle with his scarf, pointedly ignoring his cousin watching him.

“Ben?”

He looks up.

“You will come and visit, right?” Rey asks.

“Yeah.” Ren quickly nods. “I’ll come by when I don’t—”

“No, no. I mean, yeah, come by but— I meant home,” Rey corrects herself. “It’s just that—It’s just that we all miss you. Your mum is worried. And your dad— Well, he thinks he had done something wrong.”

Ren’s shoulders drop. He has moved on enough not to become angry the moment the subject is breached. “Yeah. Maybe.” And then after a moment, “Someday.”

Rey sighs. “That’s good enough.” Then she reaches toward her cousin to hug him. Ren comes reluctantly, ducking down when Rey slings her arms around his neck, trying to make up for the distance between them. “It was good seeing you.”

“Mhm.” Ren shuffles back, shoving his hands deep inside the pockets of his coat.

“And it was nice meeting you.” Rey glances at Hux who seems dazed out with an irritated look on his face.

Hux gives a silent nod.

The glossy red door closes. Ren and Hux stumble down the stairs back onto the sidewalk, both wobbling a little for different reasons. Hux is carrying the skateboard under his arm without being asked to.

“I’m not going to do it,” Ren abruptly says as they turn the corner.

“Uh-huh,” Hux nods. He pulls up the fur trimmed hood of his parka as a cold gust of wind whips down the street.

“I’m not,” Ren whines. “She always asks me to and I always say ‘maybe’ but I never do.”

“Mmm.”

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“I never said such a thing,” Hux calmly reassures but Ren can hear the ‘you are going to do it and we both know it’ in his voice.

“You really wanna ar—” Ren is interrupted by a grumble erupting in his stomach that makes him hunch over.

They both stop and stare down at Ren’s whining abdomen.

“It hasn’t even been an hour,” Hux says in bewilderment.

“It’s the flu,” mumbles Ren. He feels his face flush as his stomach pinches again.

Hux sighs and looks down the length of the road where headlights flicker in the murk of the morning. The wind ruffles the white fur of his hood as he chews his lip. “There is a café down there. We might as well make use of being here.”

 

There are trees planted in small squares of soil surrounded by drains. Their canopies brush against the wires of the Christmas lights that connect from lamppost to lamppost. The sign of the café is drawn white on a deep maroon in thin block letters. The door that has become slightly crooked with age squeaks as Ren and Hux walk inside.

The café bright and the colours are muted. Signs are drawn up in chalk with small colourful doodles at the edges, peeking out from the fall decorations that loop around the blackboard frames. Only a few tables are occupied; the customers are hidden behind the tall backs of armchairs but the wires of their laptops are visible peeking out from the coffee tables.

Hux takes off the hood of his coat as he tells Ben to go and take a spot on one of the leather couches that are placed facing each other beside the windows. Ren shuffles off without complaint.

The moment Ren sits down onto one of the sinking cushions he feels like he could fall asleep. His eyes feel raw as if he hasn’t slept a blink during the night, his throat is scratched and inflamed – making every swallow a task. Even Ren’s joints ache. He is sure that he didn’t feel like this yesterday.

Plates clatter on the coffee table and the sofa dips beside Ren, jerking him out a doze. He peels open his eyelids to look down at the swollen bellies of two white porcelain cups. One is overfilled with whipped cream that has been drizzled with chocolate sauce while the other is topped with a fine layer of foam and stripes of orange syrup.

Catching the strong smell of caramel, Ren reaches to take one of the cups and begins to slurp down its contents without care about his burned palate. Beside him, Hux is shaking off his coat, underneath it he is wearing a knitted sweater of rough dark blue wool and a mustard yellow scarf that sits snugly against his neck. Hux then tugs off Ren’s own hat and scarf as he continues to down the boiling liquid.

A waitress comes and sets down plates on the table. There are pastries and muffins that smell of spices and fruits, glazed with sugar syrup.

Ren’s stomach growls again and Hux looks at him with raised brows.

“You’re such a dick-swab,” Ren sighs, almost dunking his face in his cup.

“A ‘dick-swab’ that is paying for your food,” Hux says with a shrug as he reaches for the mug that is spilling whipped cream over the rim.

Ren is no longer paying attention because he is reaching toward the plates, grabbing a blueberry muffin and scarfing it down – almost biting off pieces of the paper wrapper. Once done, he licks his fingers clean of blueberry jam, shakes the crumbs off his clothes and reaches for a second pastry.

It’s getting too warm under the rumpled layers of sweaters that have been packed beneath Ren’s padded bomber jacket and it feels like he is back in bed, pillowed on the mattress underneath layers of blankets.

With crumbs of pecan and flaking pastry around his mouth, Ren peels of his coat and adjusts his layered sweaters. There is a chill creeping in with the door and he pulls the scarf back toward himself, wrapping it around his neck despite the sticky crumbs that fall from his chin onto the fabric.

The cushions of the backrest _uff_ as Hux falls against them, his cup half empty and a moustache of cream and chocolate on his upper lip. Even if he later denies it, he looks just as satisfied as Ren about stopping at the café.

“Whatcha get?” Ren asks.

“Hot chocolate,” replies Hux as he takes another sip. He licks away the cream with the dab of his tongue.

“Downgrade from coffee?”

“I have every intention of sleeping the moment we get home.”

“Gimme a sip,” say Ren and doesn’t wait for an answer as he reaches for the cup. Hux says nothing and lets Ren slurp down the rest of the cooling creamy dregs.

Ren absently listens to the couch creak as Hux stands. His foot nudges the skateboard under the table, bumping it against the opposing couch. Finishing the drink, Ren rests the dirty cup on his knees as he sinks down into the sofa. His chin almost touches his collarbone.

Outside, the sun seems to ignore the passing of the day, choosing to hide somewhere out of sight. Fine droplets of falling slush beat against the café windows, glittering in the lights of the passing cars.

Ren turns against the cushions of the couch. The leather warms under his cheek and the porcelain of the cup is weighs down like stone in his hands.

The cushions dip and Ren feels a warm thigh press against his own. Clothing whispers and the cup is taken from Ren’s hands. An arm sneaks between the couch and Ren’s back. He turns from the window and searches for the warmth of a bony arm underneath a roughly knitted sweater, sighing when his chin falls onto the cradle between the neck and shoulder.

There is a thick smell of chocolate in the air and opening his eyes, Ren sees Hux with his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he drinks from a cup. There is syrup at the corners of his lips but Hux doesn’t seem to notice. His pale eyes are beginning to shut behind the lenses as a warm flush takes his cheeks.

Curling his arms against Hux’s side, Ren tucks one leg underneath himself and lets his head rest on Hux’s shoulder. He feels fingers tug at the hem of his stretched hoodie, playing with the loose cotton threads. Held close, Ren falls easily into the touch, enjoying the warmth of the body beside him.

The sounds wrap around them both: the clinking of the cups at the counter, the low mutter of the staff, whirrs of laptops overheating and the distant hush of the traffic. Like warmth, the calm holds them close.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in light of what has happened recently, i wrote this with the wish of making at least someone smile. i hope and pray that everyone is able to keep themselves safe and feel loved by those close to them. i love you all and i wish everyone a lovely winter. please look after each other ❤


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